Confessions
by Pullingthetrigger-allwrong
Summary: What's a girl to do when she's deaf, hasn't said a word since she was four, and has a jealous new sister trying to bring her down at all costs? Scars hidden under walls of silence, bleeding tirelessly. SasuHina
1. Chapter 1

Hey guys! This is a new fic I'm working on. I was originally going to submit another vampire story, but this idea sort of just came to me, and I liked it. So it stays J I'll try to update, but I'm really busy with school. Since it's almost Winter break, I should be able to update soon. So, yes, to answer your question, I shall shut up now.

**Disclaimer: Naruto ain't mine. But he…sure is…fine!**

Chapter One

"_Hinata-chan, is something wrong?"_

_The small girl sniffed, dabbing at her tear stained eyes. "Ie, Oka-san."_

_The tall, elegant woman took a seat next to her daughter and gave her an unconvinced smile. "Really?"_

_The tears pooled into her wide, doe eyes. "Otou-san…"_

_The older woman frowned. "What about daddy?"_

"_I…I don't want to be the President of Hyuga Corp. I…I wish to be an actor. _

Hinata sat on her bare bed, taking one last look at her old bedroom. The walls were bare; the furniture, gone. She sighed; it was as if she hadn't just spent the last thirteen years living this small little room. Her room.

…But maybe that was the point.

A new little girl or boy would move in, thinking it had never been used. It could become their own little room.

Their one single piece of home.

She looked at her duffel bag sitting in the barren corner. She didn't have much. She sat on the bed, swinging her legs, until someone opened the door. The head of the orphanage gave her a soft smile.

Hinata knew what time it was. _A new life…_

But she couldn't help but wonder…_Why? Why me? Why would anyone adopt me?_

An old but beautiful couple walked through the door. The woman was sporting a fitted pair of designer slacks that were folded against her Italian leather boots. A genuine Fendi purse was dangling from her elbow. The man had the appearance of a slowly aging football star.

"Hinata? Hinata honey, are you ready to go? If you need more time, the cars out back, it's a red Mercedes." Hinata stared at the beautiful woman with a passive expression.

Mr. Haruno nudged his wife, scolding her. "Honey, she's deaf!"

"Oh..oh my gosh! I'm so sorry, dear!"

The silent Hyuga merely bowed to them before leaving the room, leaving the baffled couple behind. "Let's go after her. She doesn't know which car is ours!" They rushed out of the room and looked for any sign of the dark-haired girl, but could not find her. "Oh, honey! What if...what if something bad happened! We should have never let her out of our sight, not even for a minute!"

The distraught woman sighed, continuing to scan the horizons. Her husband tried to think rationally. "Okay, okay calm down. Let's try calling the cops. Where's your phone?"

"In the car. Let's go get it."

Mr. and Mrs. Haruno walked to the car, and jumped when they saw a dark-haired girl waiting patiently in the passengar seat. "Hinata! Wow, I, um, let's just...go home? Well...to our home. But it's going to be your home too! You'll love it their, you'll get your own room, and Sakura's dying to meet you!"

"Dear..."

"Oh...right."

Driving home was awkward and quiet. The upbeat couple had only known her for an hour, and yet they were already having doubts. They had no idea raising a deaf, introverted teenager would be so hard. Mrs. Haruno sighed. "She's a bit...odd."

"That's not nice."

"What? You keep saying she can't hear!" Nervously, she turned around to look at the girl in question. She was sitting straight, staring straight ahead. She seemed to be in a world of her own. "That girl should feel grateful we're taking her in. If it weren't for us, she'd still be rotting in that orphanage. Can't she at least pretend to be nice? After all, we're saving her from poverty out of the kindness of our hearts!"

He tried to concentrate on driving, but Mr. Haruno felt a bit uneasy in the girl's presence. Trying to reassure himself, he felt silly. The girl was deaf. It was probably because he was too accustomed to the bubble, talkative, sociable disposition of his daughter that the silence made him nervous. He shrugged. "Well, not everyone can be as friendly or fun as our daughter. Besides, she certainly doesn't look like a product of poverty."

Mrs Haruno shrugged. "I suppose she looks presentable enough to the country club. Not as beautiful as our precious, but tolerable enough."

Throughout the whole drive, Hinata didn't move a muscle. Other than the occasional breathing, she never moved. Mrs. Haruno shivered; she got a weird feeling from this girl.

When the car stopped, Hinata stared out the window at the posh, modern house they had pulled up in front of. The couple's happy faces appeared in front of her window. Scrutinizing the red lips that were spinning miles per minute, Hinata unbuckled her seatbelt. The woman looked shocked, but moved back as Hinata opened the door. She waited for them to open the door to their insanely big house.

They stared back at her stupidly. "Right! Right, the door. Um, right this way...oh yeah..." Hinata simply trailed behind them towards her new home. As soon as they opened the front door, a pink flash darted out, nearly tackling Hinata over. The girl broke her indifferent mask, looking bewildered and overwhelmed. The pink-haired beauty, taking a step back, looked at Hinata's flustered face and smiled apologetically. The girl pointed to herself, then began a flurry of finger movements. She first made a fist with her thumb on the top. After that, they came so fast that her parents lost track.

Hinata, however, read each sign and responded with her own. Sakura smiled and clapped with excitement. Her parents tapped her on the shoulder, interrupting the silent conversation. "Uh, Sakura, what's going on?"

"Duh, sign language! I just told her my name's Sakura, and she responded by saying, nice to meet you. What a nice girl."

"Heh...maybe we should have thought about that..."

Making another few complicated signs, Sakura turned around and raced up the stairs. "Mom, Dad, I have to practice my cheers now. See you at dinner." The turned back to Hinata with guilty expressions.

"Ah, your room. We'll show you to your room."

"Don't bother!" Sakura yelled from upstairs in her room. "I already told her."

Hinata bowed, excusing herself, and grabbed her bag. She slowly walked up the stairs, going down the left corridor where her room was located.

The Harunos weren't a nosy pair; however, there was something off about this girl. They knew she was deaf, but the orphanage never mentioned anything about being mute.

The dinner table was the same as any other day; Sakura would beam to her parents about her daily accomplishments while they would tell her how special gifted she was. Hinata was so quiet that they forgot many times that she was even present. It was as if she had never moved in.

Like a wallflower.

Sakura was every parents' dream of a trophy kid. Not only was she pretty, but she was friendly, charming, and academic (there were trophies all throughout the house). It was hard to hate her; after all, here was a girl who had the whole world handed to her. The possibilities were endless. If having kids was like the lottery, then the Haruno couple had definitely hit the jack pot.

Hyuga Hinata, on the other hand, was more like two lemons and a seven. Hinata was not only disabled, but she was not what society was open to. She was remarkably pale, dark-haired, and had unusual, rare silver eyes. Not everybody could appreciate her rare kind of beauty. But if one were to spare her just a moment's glance, they would be captivated by her enigmatic air of intrigue .

After taking a few tiny bites of food, Hinata quietly excused herself. They didn't look away from their plates as she walked away from the table.

Hinata tossed and turned from under her blankets. From outside her window, she could hear the deafening, torturing buzz of cars as they whizzed down the roads.

She tried to turn away from the window, but the sound of the cars was louder than ever. Clamping her hands over her ears, she tried to block out the sound.

With a fright, Hinata looked out the window and realized…

…the streets were deserted.

Not a car in sight.

The sounds were inscribed in her memory, in her conscious, which she could never escape from…

"Sakura, hi!"

"Hey, forehead girl!" The blond girl looked back to stare at the strange newcomer. "Who's that quiet girl behind you?"

"Oh, that's Hinata! She's my new sister. My parents adopted her."

"Oh. She looks nice."

"Yeah, she's a nice girl. She's also deaf." Ino stared at her friend, but the expression on her face after the last sentence was impossible to read.

Sakura noticed that everywhere she went, people would stare at Hinata with mixed expressions. The pink-haired cheerleader shrugged it off, clasping one of Hinata's hands and pulling her along to her home room.

After helping Hinata into a desk, Sakura settled into her usual throne in the middle of the class. Her fellow classmates swarmed to her prodding her with questions. Naruto's face popped up in front of her. "Sakura-chan, who's she?"

"My new sister, Hinata."

His face looked confused as he scratched the back of his neck. "Eh? When did that happen, she looks too old to be a newborn."

Kiba bonked the top of Naruto's head, sighing. "She told us last week her parents were adopting, baka!" He stole a sideways glance at her, smiling slightly. "She is pretty cute though..." He tried calling her name, but she seemed to be ignoring her. Hell, she was one good actor because it looked like she hadn't even heard him.

The other guys, noticing Kiba's rejection, tried to get the attention of the new girl. Everything from soft whispering to wolf whistles ensued. Sakura rolled her mint green eyes, sighing. "She's deaf, you morons. Now either take up sign language, or get back to your seats!"

Grumbling, they all retreated, slightly slumped over from their shot confidence. Naruto, however, gave her a warm, friendly grin. Hinata's lips curled up into a smile, one that reached her eyes. Naruto's smile widened. He got back to his seat, shaking the brooding boy next to him. "Ne, teme, you think she's cute?"

Sakura turned around ever so slightly, equally, if not more anxious to hear his reply.

Sasuke poked open one eye, looking at her still grinning face. She was abnormally pale, among the sea of sun-kissed bodies. Her long, dark hair obscurred most of her face, but she looked very plain. Nothing really special about her. Sasuke shrugged; there wasn't much to say. Naruto looked at him, still waiting for an answer. Sasuke shrugged, tearing his eyes away from her. "Well, they said she's deaf. Maybe you do have a shot with her."

"Thanks man, I really-HEY, it's not nice to make fun of the disabled!"

Sasuke stared at him dumbly. "But you make it so easy."

Naruto was about to shout something obscene, when the teacher bursted through the doors.

After class, Ino was genuinely impressed. "Wow Sakura, I've never seen anyone attract so much attention in one day. I am impressed."

Sakura nodded. "My dear Ino-pig, men are all the same. Dangle a toy too high above their heads for them to reach, and they'll only jump higher. It's all just a little game to them. They're simple creatures, really."

The pretty blond giggled. "I guess you're right. But still...she is kind of pretty. In that whole, Amy Lee goth chick kind of way."

She nodded. "I never said she wasn't pretty.

Sakura turned to Hinata with a warm smile. Her fingers quickly bended themselves into the intricate shapes, and after the first two Ino gave up. Hinata, however, was as bright as a tomato. She cleared her throat, a surprisingly high, girly sound, and tried to bury her deepening blush.

"Look, look she's blushing! What did you say to her?"

"I told her how popular she is with the guys."

"Aww, she's so cute. And so is her voice. She should really speak up more."

Sakura nodded in agreement. Waving her hand, Sakura ushered for her new sister to follow her to their next class.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello everyone! Well first off I'm very pleased with the amount of feedback I've gotten. And I'd like to thank all of my old readers for reading this fic xD You guys are awesome  I'd also like to say that I've gotten a lot of great feedback and criticism, so thank you all for giving me your invaluable critiques! After all, I'm writing this for all you readers out there, so what better way to improve then to listen to what you guys have to say?

Happy Holidays, everybody! Hope your Christmas is as Merry as mine!

**Disclaimer: Mine ain't Naruto. Sue don't so. (It rhymes, SUCCESS!)**

Chapter Two: Bullet to the head

"Look, there's Tenten and Temari! Let's go sit next to them!" Sakura nodded. She turned to Hinata, and made the appropriate hand signs. The three of them walked towards the two older girls sitting towards the back of the room.

"Hi guys! Hello...who's this?"

"Hinata, Sakura's kawaii new sister."

Tenten slapped her forehead. "Duh, you only told us like two weeks ago. Silly me." The brown-haired girl cocked her head, scrutinizing the petite new girl. "She looks very familiar."

Sakura shook her head. "My parents adopted her from an orphanage. I think it's safe to say that she doesn't have any more living family members."

Temari looked at the quiet girl with newfound intrigue. "What happened to her family?"

"Well, the reports in her personal file were really vague. All it said was that they died in some sort of an accident. That's how Hinata ended up deaf."

"Deaf! Wow, she's so brave!" Temari dug into her backpack and snatched a piece of paper from it. She furiously scribbled on it and showed it to Hinata. It read:

'Me: Temari!'

The boisterous blond gestured at the paper, then proceeded to point at herself.

Hinata bowed to her with an awkward grin on her face.

"Good afternoon, class."

"Good afternoon, Kurenai-sensei!"

"Okay let's turn to page…oh. It says here we have a new student. Haruno Hinata? You have a sister, Sakura?"

The pretty blush-haired girl sighed and began to tell her worn out anecdote for the umpteenth time. "We're not blood-related, parents adopted her, yadda yadda."

Kurenai rolled her eyes. "Okay, I take it this isn't the first time you've said it. Fine, I'll spare you." She turned her gaze to the pale, silver-eyed girl. "Welcome Hinata. Now, let's all turn to page 417 and continue our lesson on Robert Frost."

The class opened up their text books and began to annotate their poems while Kurenai attacked the stack of papers that had yet to be graded.

"Hey, hey girl! You got an extra pencil?"

The incredulous boy looked on as Hinata merely continued her work, totally ignoring him.

His friend elbowed him and laughed. "I bet you I can get her to talk to _me_. Hey new girl!"

His cocky grin drooped into a scowl when he was received with the same cold shoulder.

"What a freaking ice queen! Hey, just because you're a mighty Haruno now, you think you're above everybody else?"

"Knock it off!"

But before Tenten's words could be registered, the gun was already fired. The bullet, a crumpled-up piece of paper, bounced off the top of Hinata's head, landing in her out-stretched palm. Thirty pairs of eyes fixed onto her as the classroom grew deathly silent. Her eyes drifted down to the paper ball in her hand. She simply sat there, holding and staring at it with a blank-no, frozen expression of apathy.

Like a deer caught in oncoming headlights, Hinata seemed to shrivel from all the attention.

Drop by drop, she could feel the blood spew from in the bullet wound in her head, for all the class to see.

Sakura felt the anger in her swell; how dare they treat _her_ sister that way! Before she could open her mouth and let all hell break lose, a small hand blocked her way. Her mint green eyes widened in surprise and drifted upwards to the wielder of this brave hand.

Hinata simply shook her head, with a detached, glazed look in her eyes. She raised her hand; Kurenai opened her mouth as if to speak, but gave up and simply nodded. Hinata got up from her seat and made the walk across the plank towards the wastebasket. Tossing the ball into the trash can, she walked back to her seat.

When she took a seat, she rubbed her sore feet from the needles they had walked on.

The boy from earlier scratched the back of his head in shame. "Hey, I-I'm really sorry about that…"

"Are you listening!? She's deaf."

"Oh, why don't we all just keep talking about her when she's _right there!"_ Tenten yelled, throwing her hands into the air. "Fine, she can't hear. Do you think she doesn't know? She's _deaf_; not _unfeeling."_

There weren't words left to say. In a quiet, mutual manner, every single person in the room felt something for the new student: pity. Sympathy. Guilt?

Sakura sat there with a bitter feeling curling in the pit of her stomach. Not only did she loathe being embarrassed or undermined in any way, but she especially hated not being heard. Her eyes shifted to Hinata, where she was met with confliction; could she feel anger towards her? Was that even _allowed?_ Could you be angered at the handicap? She shook her head, and decided to drop it and resumed her study of the poet Frost. Even he was making more sense, right about now.

There was an awkward drift resounding in the air as the students trudged out of the classroom.

"Oh, crap." The three turns turned to face Sakura, while Hinata, who was still walking, was pulled back by Tenten.

Temari scrunched her eyebrows in confusion. "What is it?"

The girl in question snatched Hinata's schedule and held it beside hers. "We don't have the next classes together." She bit her lower lip in thought, unsure of what to do.

"I believe I have the answer to that problem, Miss Haruno."

They turned around to find themselves face to face with the busty principal. "Hinata," she turned around and grabbed someone, "your new assistant. COME!" From behind the throng of bustling students, she produced a familiar spiky-headed boy. Sakura's jaw unlatched in disbelief.

"Uchiha Sasuke?"

The black-haired, brooding teen rolled his eyes in displeasure. "What?"

"You're…an assistant?"

He shrugged, turning so that his back was to her. Stuffing his fingers into his pockets, he muttered, "What of it?"

Her eyes narrowed, at nothing in particular. Just in blatant discontent.

Tsunade clapped her hands. "Mr. Uchiha has graciously volunteered to show Hinata around, and make sure she doesn't encounter any problems. Since we're still in the first quarter, the counselors were even able to move Sasuke into all of Hinata's classes. Now get! The bell's gonna ring in two minutes!" As she rushed past the baffled teens, she leaned into towards Hinata and whispered, "You can thank me later for the studdly assistant." With a wink, she was gone.

Hinata slowly, slowly, turned to face the Uchiha. She took in his rugged appearance and had to admit that he was indeed attractive; attractiveness that inspired nothing in her.

So he was her new assistant.

"Well, are you coming or what?"

Two big, wide opals blinked at him.

Sighing, Sasuke pushed passed Sakura and stalked towards Hinata like the predator he was. As he brushed passed her, Sasuke grabbed the top handle of Hinata's backpack, dragging her backwards.

It was quite an awkward sight; the cold, introvert heart throb dragging the indifferent new Haruno, backwards. But as Sakura watched the awkward twosome grow smaller and smaller, she could her fingers perspiring from gripping her skirt so tightly. She released the material to find it irreversibly crinkled and dented.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

_Flashback_

_Tsunade walked into to see Sasuke slumped against the chair, counting his cigarettes. He doesn't bother turning around when he hears her enter._

"_Why Mr. Uchiha, smoking again in the boy's room. And better yet, you sit here counting your EVIDENCE." At the last word, she snatched the box from his hand and dropped it, crushing it with her stiletto heel._

"_Have fun cleaning that."_

"_Oh, I will. But not as much fun as I will have punishing your sorry ass. What will it be this time? Suspension? Perhaps expulsion."_

_He scoffed. "Fine. Too many fan girls here anyway."_

_Her eyes developed a sinister glimmer in them. "Yes, you do have a particularly devoted pack of fan girls here." The corners of her grin collided with her ears. "I take it you're one for that cute Haruno girl?"_

_The Uchiha's eyes grew dark and stormy. _

_Tsunade's fingers fidgeted with giddiness. "Never mind what I said earlier. This new punishment will save me big bucks for Vegas. Uchiha Sasuke. You will be assisting Hinata, the new student."_

_His eyes were disbelieving. "Baby-sit some girl? You're getting too old for this."_

_She smirked. "Yeah? You're right-I'm getting old. Maybe that's why I forgot to mention. Hinata…is Sakura's new sister." Tsunade cackled. "Enjoy seeing more of her."_

"…_Shit."_

_End Flashback_

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Sasuke walked into class, ignoring all of the stunned stares as he tugged the helpless girl. There were two empty seats in the back; he looked around to see all of the hungry female faces leering at him. Sasuke looked at her with a menacing sneer that even she wasn't immune to; maybe she wasn't _entirely_ useless.

Taking one of the seats for himself, he ushered (kind of threw…) Hinata into the adjacent one. Were he anyone other than Uchiha Sasuke, he would have possibly done a victory dance at the grumbling sound of all the disappointed fan girls.

While the teacher began a lesson on what was about second-grade chemistry, Sasuke took a sideways glance at her.

He had to admit; she had quite a nice profile. Her nose was thin and elegantly elevated, her eyes (an odd chrome color) were deeply sunken in, and she had a delicately chiseled jaw line. On the whole, she was rather attractive. But any fondness or interest in her dissolved as he watched her mechanically take notes on the lecture.

By far, she was the dullest girl he had ever encountered, which was kind of ironic, seeing as how she had the most unusual features. At least the fan girls had…feelings (albeit too many). Hinata; he scoffed at her name. Some ray of sunshine she was. A cloudy, rainy afternoon was more accurate.

Were it not the warmth from her breath as she exhaled, he would have assumed she was a mannequin. Not a single emotion was displayed onto her face. No concentration, or even boredom.

The loud, bold personality of someone like Naruto easily took up a whole room's worth of space.

This strange, strange girl…you could say, she didn't take up any space at all.

Her personality was dry; her mannerisms, dull. Was there any life in her? Sasuke began to wonder if she actually enjoyed being deaf, mute, or any other ailment she possessed.

A wall; she was enclosed in some sort of barrier. Sasuke smirked; how much weight could her wall withstand before crumbling away?

Might as well have fun with this one while he was stuck "baby-sitting."

After all, what is life but a game, meant solely to entertain him?

One by one, slowly but surely, Uchiha Sasuke would be the one to stack the weights onto her barriers and wait for the fortress to come crashing down.


	3. Chapter 3

Hi everyone! I think some of you were confused about the part where Hinata was 'bleeding' and walking on needles, but that was just the psychological torture she was going through. I hope that clears things up  Also last time I checked, 51 of you who read this review, so I am extremely pleased :D As for the other 49 (wow check out these math skeeelz), I'll come after you in your sleep! Just kidding! I'm glad even 64 review, which is a considerably high number Thank you, everyone! From the bottom of my heart (considering my height, it's around 3 ½ feet), I truly appreciate it! **Happy New Years! Make it a good one :D**

**Disclaimer: If Naruto were mine, Kakashi wouldn't be wearing that mask…and other…clothe items 8)**

"_Thoughts"_

"Regular speech"

Chapter Three: Saint

"…_What am I doing?"_

"It sort of just happened. Kami, look at me. Quoting day time talk shows. I"ve really hit rock bottom."

"_It's just ridiculous."_

"Sometimes I doubt if he really wanted it at all. Maybe he just felt sorry me. Hell, **I** feel sorry for me."

"_It's absurd."_

"You know, I'm just looking for any excuse for myself. So here goes. I've convinced myself…it was fate. The conditions were too perfect to label it coincidence."

"_You're looking at me with this…this blank look."_

"She was out of town for the week, visiting her brothers. He needed a place to crash."

"_Like you can't hear me. Ha…right. Because you can't."_

"I had a place to stay. I had empty space on my bed."

"_So why am I telling you all this?"_

"This is just stupid. I know it's my fault. She's my best friend, Hinata. Honestly, I'm no better than a common whore."

"_Your face…you almost look kind of sad. Like you can hear me. Like you can understand."_

"He won't tell. I won't tell. So **what** exactly am I so worried about?"

_This feels stupid…but right, at the same time."_

"Wow…thanks Hinata. For listening." She laughed sadly, sandwiching Hinata's cold hand between hers. "Even if you're not really. But I feel like you can. Thanks."

Letting go of her hands, the two girls stepped out of the janitor's closet.

"Ino, Hinata? What were you two doing in the janitor's closet?" Temari jabbed Ino in the ribs with her elbow. "Yanno…people will talk. You know how nasty those rumors can get."

Ino laughed, while Hinata simply stood off to the side. "It's finally Friday! Do you have any exciting plans for the weekend?"

"Well, me and Shikamaru might catch a movie or something." She scratched her neck. "The lazy bum's been acting funny lately.

The cerulean-eyed blond tensed. Her face contorted into a look of slight horror. "Ow, I think I'm having cramps."

"Oh, I know what you mean. Go, run to that bathroom!"

Ino didn't need any more assurance; she was already halfway down the hall.

Temari's smile slackened when Ino was gone. She turned to face Hinata. "Look, I know you have ABSOLUTELY no idea what I'm saying. And I probably scare you a little. But…I just need you. I need someone to listen…who won't actually listen." She went on her tip-toes and groaned when she saw Sasuke approaching them. Temari sighed, and took out a piece of paper. She folded Hinata's fingers around and, with a slight smile, walked away.

Hinata quickly shoved the paper into her wool skirt's pocket and turned around.

With every ticking of the school clock, he drew closer and closer. She blinked for what seemed like a mere second and nearly gasped when his face was a hair's breath away from her.

He could hear her gulp loudly; in fear. She tried to calm her nerves by closing her eyes and inhaling, but every time she opened them again, his eyes seemed to pierce into her soul.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"…_Fuck this."_

Sakura stared out the window and sighed. _"Fuck all of this."_

Life. What a vague, ambiguous series of plot twists.

Now, Sakura was a very humble girl.

She was _fairly_ pretty, _considerably_ popular, and _generally_ nice to everyone, from the populars to the outcasts.

To boot, she was _captain_ of varsity cheer.

In fact, she was _very _pretty, _ridiculously_ popular, and _pain-stakingly_ nice to everyone! Even to those hopeless, repulsive nerds who couldn't quite master walking without having their drooling mouths dangling open.

…But you can't blame her for that. After all, Haruno Sakura was a victim of society. They _made_ her this way.

How many times a day did some no-name boy remind her how perfect she was? How many times was she complimented of her ability to balance cheer, academics, and a top-notch social life?

A girl could only take so much praise before she became dependent on it.

Slowly, like a the most lethal, addictive drug, she became to feed off of it, growing into a stage of delusion with every dosage.

So here's a girl who's…well, perfect in every imaginable way. A girl who's given anything she wants, and even things she doesn't. So essentially, she gets…

**Everything.** Everything _except_…

Her eyes drifted to the empty seat in the back corner. A seat previously occupied by none other than Uchiha Sasuke.

_Uchiha Sasuke…why won't you be mine?_

For years, ever since 4th grade when she had moved to Konoha, she had known that Uchiha Sasuke would someday be hers. He was perfect in every _possible_ way.

Just like her.

She had squeezed out from Naruto every ounce of information on him to decide; pouncing on him like a hungry cougar would not win his heart. So…she locked away her heart, her burning desires, and submitted to being his _friend._ And it had only taken her _five years_ for him to manage a "Hn" to her in reply to her daily "Good morning Sasuke-kun!"

She wanted him enough to need him…

And now…Hinata. Deaf, sweet little Hinata. Deaf, shy Hinata. Deaf. Deaf. Deaf! She was…flawed! Defected! She could never be normal. How come she got to be close to him! Spend the rest of her year in his company, every day, every waking moment.

While she was here, alone, stuck with nothing but an empty seat as a sad little reminder.

"…_Fuck this."_

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

The gears in his head began to spin rapidly as he studied the tedious girl beside him. Well…his standard verbal abuse was not possible. He shrugged, undeterred. After all, you know what they say:

Looks can kill.

He growled in annoyance when he felt a tap on his shoulder. "What?"

Ibiki-sensei glared at Sasuke with his stone gaze. "Uchiha, make sure Hinata reads up to page 215 and takes notes on key battles as she goes."

Sasuke smiled; a twisted, awkward Sasuke smile. "Of course."

He turned to face Hinata, who immediately turned to face him. Smiling (which gave Hinata an ominous feeling), he said to Hinata in a clear, slow voice, "Read up to page 215, and take notes on any key battles as you go."

If a bystander was grossly uninformed, they would've been shocked at how nice Sasuke was acting.

However…

The classmates looked on in horror as Hinata merely looked back at him with a blank stare. One boy began to lean closer to her and began to scribble something when he caught sight of Sasuke and decided to retreat. He shot everyone a warning glare.

"Good luck." He smirked, and opened his book to begin his work.

On any given day, Sasuke could take his time doing his doing class work and still finish with fifteen minutes to spare.

Today, he decided to work at a nice, steady pace and finished with half an hour to spare. Closing his book, he glanced at Hinata.

He frowned; she was scribbling away on her fifth sheet of paper. Sasuke looked at her notes and growled; she had every single battle neatly scribed onto her paper.

How the hell…

Then he remembered how he had told Hinata the assignment slowly…

…could it be? It wasn't possible, but the only answer was that:

Hinata could read lips.

But that was absurd. Then being deaf would hardly be a hindrance is she could read lips this well.

Whatever the reason was, he wouldn't be making that mistake twice.

After class, Hinata turned in her seven pages of notes. Ibiki looked at Sasuke with surprise. "Wow. Sasuke being helpful." He turned to Hinata. "You must be something special, eh?"

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata watched as Sasuke made his way to the boy's locker room. She sighed; a moment of relief. After the stunt he tried to pull in first period, she was scared of him. What did he want with her? Why was he doing this? Sasuke certainly didn't seem like someone who would interact with…well, people!

"Hinata!"

She turned around and squeezed her eyes shut as Temari came crashing down onto her. Temari took out a piece of paper that read "Can we talk now?"

Hinata mentally berated herself. She had forgotten all about the letter! She looked at the clock and bit her lower lip; class started in two minutes. Still, Temari looked in need of help.

"_Don't regret this Hinata…"_

Slowly, Hinata nodded. Temari smiled gratefully, and pulled her into one of the empty shower stall.

"Hinata, I…see, there's a secret that I know…"

"_Why do you look so understanding?"_

"It's a secret that I really wish I didn't know. I don't know what to do with it. Should I do something, or keep my mouth shut?"

"_I feel silly and normal.."_

"Right now, things in my life are great. Me and my boyfriend are planning on going to the same liberal arts university. My friends and I are getting along great…" she gulped, "especially with…Ino."

"_I didn't think that name would hurt so much…"_

"She and I have more in common than he could have imagined. I mean, look at us, we're the same! We're two blond, busty, bitchy girls. The three B's!"

"…_Can you hear me?"_

"But she…she lied to me. Both of them. My favorite people…"

"_No, like, really hear me. Can you?"_

"I'm happy. I really am. My brother's finally out of rehabilitation, my family's doing pretty well, I'm honestly happy. I could just..turn my back on this secret and continue being happy."

"_No, no you can't. Nobody can hear me."_

She sighed. "Happy…this happy LIE. Should I stay (here), or should I go?"

Temari let the unheard question linger in the air and smiled. "You know, Hinata. You've really helped me. Haha, how, may you ask? Other people would've answered me and tell me what to do. But you didn't say anything…"

Her smile became warmer. "Which is exactly the way it should be. You've shown me…that this is MY problem, alone. So it's up to ME to figure it out. Thanks, Hinata. You're such a saint."

Temari leaned in to hug Hinata who, despite looking slightly puzzled, softly returned the hug.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata looked at Temari's torn face as she continued to speak. Hinata knew that expression; an expression she herself wore many times.

The face that held many secrets.

If only Hinata could've said to her, "But Temari, secrets are so very dangerous. It's always so much easier to turn a blind eyes. You know that saying - Ignorance is bliss!"


	4. Chapter 4

Hello hello! Sorry the update's a little late…progress reports came…

-_Ducks the flying furniture-_ Yeah, that's never a good sign. Well anyway, I think this chapter is a little bit confusing. Just keep in mind that italics means thoughts of flashbacks…I'm sure you'll all be able to decide which is which. I'll try to keep my updates consistent. Let's not even think about writer's block right now.

**Disclaimer**: I don't own Naruto, or the characters, or the manga, or the anime, etc…

Chapter 4: Shudder

Temari saw how worried Hinata was. "Are you afraid because we're late? Ha, you are too cute! Don't worry about a thing."

Asumna-sensei was already taking roll call. Temari casually walked to her spot in roll call line. He didn't bother looking up from his clip board and carried on with a rather peeved expression.

"Ms. Temari, may I ask why you are late…yet again?"

She doubled over dramatically and clutched her stomach. "I was having cramps."

The boys and Asuma all sweat-dropped as the atmosphere became increasingly awkward. Fanning his reddening face, Asuma cleared his throat. He began muttering under his breath, something about lousy, teenagers, and hormones. "So, may I ask why Ms. Hinata is late as well?"

"Why, she was giving me a necessary female sanitary product. You know, a PAD."

Suddenly, Asuma regretted ever bringing up the topic. He just couldn't win with these lousy teenagers. "Can we, ah, just start the activities for today…"

Temari winked at Hinata, who bowed her head in deep gratitude.

"Okay class. Apparently, the track had eleven different toxic chemicals in its soil, and the health committee 'deemed' that is was too 'hazardous' and would cause severe 'mutations' if anyone were exposed to it." He made another 'quote' sign with his fingers at the end for good measure, and rolled his eyes.

"Why back in my day, they made us run through the rain, sleet, snow and mud and now they're trying to tell me you precious darlings can't bear to be near the bad, meanie toxic! But whatever."

The class sighed as he continued to mutter under his breath. "Anyway, since the track is unavailable for said reasons, we'll simply have to make do with what we have. We'll just take it easy and spend the rest of the period doing laps around the campus. If I see you walk, that's an F. We're in an epidemic of eating here."

He started walking towards the outside of the campus, when he abruptly turned around. "Oh yeah, watch out for cars!" He gave them a happy-go-lucky smile before turning around and leading them to the school gates.

"What, why are you all staring at me for? Get running."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata loved that pounding, light-headed sensation she got from running. She may not have hand-eye coordination, or any coordination for that matter, but run she could do. Running was the only thing that gave her a sense of control.

Running put the color back into her face.

It brought the feeling back in her insides.

She could hear the drumming on her racing heart.

And was stupid as it sounded, it made her feel alive.

There were a couple people ahead of her, but Hinata was definitely in the upper-tier of the group. Not that she actually counted, but there were probably about three people ahead of her. Her shirt was soaked with perspiration, and her stomach was twisting into knots, but she picked up the pace.

After another ten minutes, she had caught up to the leads and darted passed them. Tenten and Temari looked impressed while Sasuke simply continued his even pace – never slowing, never hastening.

So what if some under-nourished girl passed him. She had, like fifty pounds less to carry.

And so this continued. Sasuke was lost in a train of thought as he ran until he heard a series of screams behind him. He snapped out of his reverie, and saw that a car was pursuing the class like that stupid boulder from Indiana Jones. Asuma was blowing his whistle, waving his arms.

"Alright, everyone off out of the way! It's Tsunade driving!"

If students were jogging before, they now sprinted off the track as the red-faced principal continued to aimlessly wander onto the school parking lot. Sasuke stood off to the side.

"HEY! I SAID OUT OF THE WAY! THIS SCHOOL CAN'T AFFORD TO BE SUED! Geez…I wasn't serious about the whole 'watch out for cars' thing…"

Sasuke looked to see all of the students running off to the side of the parking lot.

All but one.

His head began to pound with apprehension; his suspicions became more and more affirmed as a small blue-haired girl continued to run along without a care in the world. Without a care in the fact that she was moments away from being road kill.

Uchiha Sasuke cursed; how the hell did she get back there so fast?

That spot under the tree's shade was looking mighty tempting, but if anything happened to the little princess, he just knew Tsunade would be all up in his ass.

Sighing in frustration, he ran a hand through his tousled hair: "Fucking girl…"

He ran towards her, growling at the wall of bodies that were shouting at her to get her attention. Did they always have to make a spectacle out of anything that resembled a fatal situation? Seriously, didn't they get enough of that on the news?

Sasuke ran with such intensity and force that it was unnecessary to part the spectators; they were blown away by his vigor, pushed aside and onto their knees.

Hinata looked ahead and saw what looked to be the majority of the class jumping and waving their hands. She furrowed her brows in confusion; did this turn into a race? Were they cheering her on?

Her confusion only grew when she saw her classmates teeter to the floor like bowling pins.

The confusion converted into fear as she saw the bowling ball named Sasuke run towards her. In fear, she turned away from him and ducked, covering herself with her arms. It was then that everything clicked; why the class was hysterically jumping, why he was hastily running towards her…

As the bright lights flashed into her eyes, her face lost all traces of warmth and color. With pain-staking sluggishness, the car headed towards her. She squeezed her eyes shut and opened her mouth, in silent screams of terror.

_Bright lights…tracing the outlines of their silhouettes._

_Bright lights…dilating her pupils._

_Bright lights…that blinded her._

Sasuke pulled her out of the way, and tipped over from the momentum. He flipped them over so that he landed on the black asphalt.

After shaking the dizziness from his head, he grunted when something collided with the side of his head. He wrenched his eyes open and watched as she flailed wildly in his grasp.

"Hey….stop…"

His pounding headache returned, but she apparently didn't notice or care as she continued to thrash around violently. Sasuke grabbed her flapping arms, and secured his arms around her abdomen, locking her arms.

Still, she shuddered, causing his head to repeatedly hit the ground beneath him.

Cripes, at this rate his skull would crack…

"Calm down. Hey, calm-stop."

She had somehow slipped from his hold, and continued trembling. Sasuke sighed in frustration, flipping them over. He loomed over her, supporting his own weight with his elbows and began to lightly hit her across the cheeks.

When he tried to fruitlessly calm her down, her index and middle finger shot up, jabbing him in the forehead.

"_Ow, you always do that! You could've poked me in the eye!"_

Right between his eyes.

"That's enough."

His hands went into autopilot and shot out. He was grabbing her arms, pinning her to the floor.

The tone of his voice was curt and sliced through any other outside noises.

The pressure of his words alone caused her to become still like the dead and open her eyes.

She was a complete and utter mess. Her hair was disheveled, she was covered in sweat, but more than that she looked shaken on the _inside_.

And then there were her eyes…

They were wide pools of terror and strain; she was physically out of breath. Her face was more or less stoic, but her eyes still managed to convey that she was scared shitless.

He knew that face…that scared-shitless face.

He was still hovering above her, with nowhere to look but at those white, shaken eyes. Those…_familiar _eyes?

It was all getting a little too annoying for Sasuke's taste. Glaring towards her direction (he wasn't able to look at her eyes…), he jumped away from her like she was the plague and walked away, leaving behind a flabbergasted group of teens, and one very dazed Hinata.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

They eyed her as she walked towards their direction. "I heard she did it on purpose, so he would save her. Since he's, like, her babysitter."

Her friend rolled her artificially blue eyes. "Obviously, how could you not notice thirty people thrashing and waving their arms?"

"Maybe she's just slow."

They were on other sides of the hallway, yet they didn't bother whispering. "Yeah, doubt it. She's definitely one of those book-types."

"Hey, I would've tried to same. Oh wait…I already did…"

Even as Hinata walked by them, they continued their shouting, louder than ever.

"I bet she's having fun milking this whole 'deaf' thing."

Only when Sakura walked by did they hush. "Hey Haruno." She quickly waved her hand, returning their greeting. She knew they were talking to her; no one called Hinata a Haruno.

Sakura weaved her way past the bodies and gossip floating through the hallways. She needed to get away from the rumors, and clear her thoughts. _"She's your sister, your sister, your lovable deaf sister."_

…But maybe they were right. Hinata was in all AP classes; she had to know that a car was _right behind her_! She had to know it was there!

"_Your lovable deaf sister who follows Sasuke like a lost dog…"_

The more she wanted to believe it, the truer it became.

And there is no persuasion like desperation…

Sakura would've liked to believe that Hinata was a devious little girl who liked to take advantage of her flaw; her defect.

And that's exactly what she believed as she poked her head under the dinner table that evening and saw the gruesome gash on Hinata's knee.

She reached across the table snatched the salt dispenser, shaking a good palm-ful into her hand. Her parents were to busy wincing in disgust at the scrape on Hinata's cheek to notice.

Without ever taking her eyes off of Hinata, she ducked her hand under the table and rubbed the salt against her own knee, still picturing her sister's wound.


	5. Chapter 5

Wow…I'm…alive!

Honestly, I hate myself too. I'll spare you all the sob story, just know that I'm going to try to finish this. Again, deepest apologies. If it weren't for the reviews, I doubt I'd even be writing this, so thanks for everything 

**Chapter 5: Brushfire**

_Dear 4128, _

_Hi ____ It's me again. Ha, you thought you were rid of me. Not quite! They said I didn't have to, but I like writing to you. Well, I love writing, but writing to you is especially fun.  
Sometimes I feel as though face to face, you'd be this whole other person. So in a way, I'm thankful I have these letters to know this whole person inside of you that no one knows exists. I just know it…_

_I hope that doesn't sound half as creepy as I think it does._

_But I do mean it. I have faith. In this. In you. In everything. You can pull through this, if you just hang in. _

_It sounds silly; I don't even know your story at all. Sure, I've read the reports they sent me. I've heard things. But there's so much more to a story. An endless number of perspectives and interpretations, that no single document could ever hope to cover. _

_Half the time, I laugh aloud at my stupidity; halfway through writing about unicorns and daffodils, I remember who exactly I'm talking to. If only I could see your reaction to my antics. I wonder…_

_Do you laugh? Scowl? Smile?_

_Do you enjoy my letters (sorry for asking…for the 147837436__th__ time)? Do you read it aloud and laugh together at my whimsical naiveté? I wouldn't blame you…it'd relieve me, in a sense, that I am of some use at least, if only to provide you with a laugh._

_I wonder._

_Sometimes I feel you're the only one who truly understands me. _

_Sincerely, your friend,  
Sunshine_

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

A pretty brunette flaunting her new Dooney and Bourke tote bag scoffed as Hinata trudged along behind Sasuke with a comfortable distance (enough for an Amazonian stampede, really). She nearly retched when she saw Sasuke sigh in annoyance and yank her arms, drawing her closer so the little sheep wouldn't go astray.

"Sakura, can you believe this! Your sister is clinging onto Sasuke like a helpless kitten. Ugh!" She made an exaggerated movement of her arms in distress, flashing her tote so passerbys would happen upon its label.

The pink princess smiled good-naturedly and sighed. "It can't be helped."

By now, she had a formidable audience gathering around her for story time. The crazed teenagers homed in on her with rapt attention. "What do you mean?"

Putting on a mask of crestfallen sorrow, Sakura looked to the side. "Hinata's my stepsister, and she really is a nice girl. But, she just isn't as strong as normal people like us. She's like this glass spoon. So…" she promptly dropped the spoon, sending it to its shattering doom, "fragile."

They clucked and tutted in response. "How did she manage to get _him_ as her assistant? Uchiha Sasuke hates everybody. Even me!" Her empty eyes rolled, as if she couldn't possibly comprehend the thought of anybody hating her and her tortoise shell Jimmy Choos.

Sakura looked around in mock-caution and beckoned for the girls to lean in closer. "Promise you won't tell anyone. I don't want to give Hinata a bad name…she's been through _so_ much already…"

They nodded, but Sakura could easily see the hunger in their eyes for this juicy slice of gossip. Hunger that could not be satisfied by merely taking in, but also giving out. Still, she pressed onward.

"In all truth, Hinata's had this extremely unhealthy infatuation with Sasuke."

"You're kidding! How degrading to women!"

…They must've somehow forgotten the mug shots of Sasuke they had taped onto the inside of their lockers.

"She stopped eating, stopped drinking, and _even_ began…cutting herself!" She mentally sighed at their blank stares. "With a knife!"

The hallway echoed with their shrieks of disbelief. "What a freak! She's totally obsessed."

"How disgusting! Imagine the scars it would leave!"

Sakura gave an impervious look. "I think her little crush is too cute, in all honesty."

"But…how did she end up getting him as her assistant?" It was the million dollar question.

Her mint green eyes intensified as she watched the empty hallway where Sasuke and Hinata had disappeared from. "It was only a matter of time until Hinata threatened to kill herself if she couldn't have him. My parents were worried sick; Mom even got a gray hair."

"Oh, that poor woman. No wonder why she was worried; think about the uproar a scandal like this would cause."

"Not just that. They were worried about her. Like, we all believed she would do it! She looked really desperate. So my parents, bless their souls, paid Tsunade a lot of money to bribe Sasuke into being her assistant."

They all cooed and patted her arm in sympathy. "Your poor parents."

"You're so brave, Sakura…I would never be able to let Sasuke near anybody but me. I want him all to myself. The thought of him with another girl…oh, it just kills me!"

She smiled with glazed eyes. "It's Hinata's first crush, and I think it's sweet. Besides," her eyes betrayed the look of sheer confidence and assertion on her face, "I trust that in the end, I'll be the one who Sasuke comes to. I have complete faith in him; in us. We're just meant to be."

They gaped at her with fervent admiration and awe. "Wow…You, are so nice and cool, Sakura!"

Tilting her head back, she reveled in all their praises of adoration and admiration.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

All through out the day, Hinata was relieved to note that Sasuke had yet to terrorize her, let alone acknowledge her presence. For this, she was ecstatic- frankly, the cold-hearted boy didn't have to do anything except look at her to give her a rush of fear.

She didn't know what it was about him that frightened her so much, and she didn't want to know. What she did know was that she could live her whole life without another encounter with the cold Uchiha.

A sudden flurry of flashbacks pounded in her mind; his hands around her wrists, the wrinkle in his forehead from yelling, the weight of his body pressing down on her.

Only years of training kept the burning shame and embarrassment in her from bubbling up to the surface.

Marble…his skin was like cold, smooth, flawless marble.

Hinata mentally sighed as she accidentally elbowed her pencil, causing it to roll off the surface of the desk. As she leaned over to pick it up, she saw a blueish purple patch on skin on Sasuke's forehead when he shook the hair out of her eyes.

Then she remembered; that boiling red hue in his eyes as she jabbed him in the forehead with her fingers. Looking at the fair-sized bruise, she immediately became overcome with a sense of unexplainable guilt.

With a venomous glower courtesy of an Uchiha Sasuke, Hinata retreated her hand and abandoned all thoughts of her pencil.

That anger…that pure, raw anger that had consumed him. Hinata couldn't understand _why_ he had reacted such a way; if anything, he should've been angry that she had smacked him in the head with her flailing noodle arms.

It was like magnetism – something drew Sasuke to stare at Hinata in that precise moment.

No, he wasn't staring at her. He was staring at her _staring at his bruise_.

Taking in a sharp breath, she prepared herself for a verbal chew-out. Her fingers dug into her palms, leaving angry red crescents in their wake.

His eyes strayed from her gaze, to her eyes with an expression far more frightening expression.

Sadness. For the first time, Hinata saw sheer misery mar his devilish features. His rough, jagged cheeks were rounded as grief's gravity sagged his features. With his normally exaggerated eyebrows slugged down in a frown, his anger expression was replaced with only sadness.

He looked…young.

And Hinata was transported to a small closet, gazing at a boy huddled in the crampness, gazing into those same troubled eyes…

_Dear Sunshine: _

_On the contrary, I'm pleased that you continue to write me your letters, however whimsical you think them to be. I am glad I may be of service in your quest to gain community service hours._

_Perhaps I have (unfairly) given you the wrong impression of me, for you seem to think that I am a person of perpetual merit and honor. Is it an error on my part?_

_You are free to believe what you will, but rest assured that I am where I am for a very legitimate reason. I'm no saint by any means. Barely tolerable, to be frank. I might even be a terrible person, or so they keep telling me. I don't feel remorse; I never do. It appears as though I cannot._

_That's what makes it far more terrifying._

_Faith is a luxury I cannot grant; hope, an investment in disappointment. Do not hope, my friend, for it is both futile and disheartening. The decisions have been made, which I accept wholly. Someday, perhaps you will do the same, and rest lay your hopeless efforts.  
Part of this could be that you have yet to tell me anything about you. I've heard odds and ends of your life, and your hardships, but you have yet to directly address the pain you endure. For this, I am grateful, for I am entirely incapable of providing comfort or condolences of any sorts. You see, I am unable to sympathize. This is not entirely my fault._

_As for reactions?_

_I have none. Not for lack of quality content in your letters (they bring me much amusement), but because I am of the whole particularly indifferent and stoic._

_And not a single one of your letters have been read to my cellmates, so you need not worry about that. I can respect a need for privacy. I must admit; your air of mystery does intrigue me._

_I try to understand you, Sunshine. I won't judge you, advise you, or console you, but I will work earnestly to find a level of relativity between us. You seem to understand me as well as you can given what I've provided you with in my letters. I am simply returning the gesture._

_With esteem and understanding,  
4128_

Sakura pushed away her plate of unfinished food, dabbing her cherry-lips with a napkin. From across the dinner table, she saw Hinata's lips quirk into a telltale smile.

"What's she reading that's got her all smiley?" spat Mrs. Haruno.

Her father shrugged, thrown off by the unusual smile upon her face. "A love note, maybe?"

Her world became tainted by scarlet as she glared at Hinata, willing the paper to burn. Burn, until the flames blackened her pure, snow-like fingers.  
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Is it wishful thinking to hope that you guys aren't too mad to leave a review?


	6. Chapter 6

Hey gang! I tried to get this one out quickly, so here ya go, pretties !!

**Disclaimer: Naruto is a ninja. Don't sue me, or I'll cringe-a.**

Chapter Six – The Only One Who Cares

Her heart was pounding profusely as she spotted him in the cafeteria, under the dim lights that seemed to focus solely on him. Like a spotlight. Blinking, she stared down at her feet, which were slowly making their way to him. She tried to take a detour, but she was like the fly, drawn to the blinding spotlights.

The pounding quickened as he became bigger and bigger with each step. She was drawing closer and closer until she could see his whole front, then waist up, and drew closer until all that filled her vision was his face. And like a force of magnetism, he stared at her, locking gazes. She held her breath and opened her mouth!..

Until he dropped his gaze and looked away.

Her hopes, her passion, all drained. Still holding onto that breath, that same breath with which they had locked gazes, until the pain was far too much to hold in. She let go; of the pain, the oxygen, the hope.

She just…let it go.

And walked away.

Ino stepped into an empty classroom; it didn't matter which classroom, so long as it was empty. Dumping herself onto one of the desks, she would've shot up from it had not the desk been in the way when she heard the door close.

Looking up, a small grin worked its way onto her face when she saw him stand over her desk, hands hastily shoved into his pockets.

"Hi."

Without responding, he pulled her out of the desk and grabbed her shoulders, leaning her back until she was pushed onto the surface of the hard wood. She tried to work in a few words, but you couldn't really say, "Hey, how's the weather?" while a guy's half way through peeling off your shirt.

Turning her face to the side, she sighed. _We never talk_…

…

_Why can't we talk?_

There was such urgency in them; what if someone came in? What if the bell rang? Too much urgency, far too many 'what ifs'. She decided that she needed a change of pace.

"Hey!" she blurted. Her sudden word caused him to freeze. Ino decided it was probably at bad time when she realized her tank top was pulled over her head, covering her face.

Putting it back on, she straightened up and looked at him. "Shikamaru."

"Yeah?" He looked bored, passive, impatient, just like he always did. Around her, anyway.

_Once…just once, would you look at me like you do to her? Would you let me in on what's inside of your head, not in your pants?_

"We never talk."

He shrugged, averting her eyes. "I didn't realize you wanted to."

She squinted her eyes in confusion. "What do you mean, what I wanted? Do you think I want…" she pointed to the desk, where she was lying on her back, "that that was what I wanted? Why do you even bother?" _If you won't let me in?_

His face was almost…condescending as he faced her. "Because you need this."

She felt the sting from the slap on the face he had just delivered. Why?

Because it was true. Every last word of it. For Ino, pretty as she was, had never been loved. She had been in love, plenty of times, but being the best friend of Haruno Sakura had its set backs. Things never quite worked out. Like when her fourth grade boyfriend one day gave _Sakura_ his animal crackers. She went hungry.

When her crush asked Sakura to prom. She stayed home.

When her boyfriend of two years had slept with Sakura.

She was always in the shadows: the shadows of Sakura, the shadows away from public. The woman on the side.

It had started out that way; where all she required was a tactile intimacy. That he would give. But his heart, he locked away and hid the key, to a place where only _the other woman_ could reach it.

…Oh, who was she kidding! She was the other woman.

There was that line…did she dare to cross it? Before she had time to think herself out of it, she blurted, "I need you to have feelings for me." The last word seemed to echo, infinitely across the barren classroom.

Across her barren heart.

And, simply so, the line was crossed.

The wrinkles in his forehead tensed, and his face became hard. "That's not what you said that day."

She covered her ears, for she could already hear his words in her head.

With his back turned to her, he stopped briefly in the doorway. "That's not something I can give you."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Sakura beckoned for her friends to follow her, and together they stood behind a wall. One girl stood up and sighed. "This, whole idea is just ridiculous. I won't believe it."

However, Sakura tugged on her sleeve and pointed down the hall. Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief as Temari and Hinata guardedly entered the janitor's closet.

"No…it must be a misunderstanding…"

Her eyes only widened as they cautiously looked over their shoulders before shutting the door closed.

The girls gasped sharply as their imaginations ran wild over sorts of things went on behind closed doors.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Hey…you know, I think our talk-my talk, last time really helped me. It made me do some thinking. You know like, soul searching."

Hinata only stared back at her, with a small smile.

"I mentioned my brother before, right? Well…back at home, he's having trouble adjusting. He doesn't have friends…he's just never been able to socialize ever since our dad abused him."

"_I guess it's my fault I never stopped him.."_

Closing her eyes shut, she let the tears seep through. She didn't feel like keeping any secrets anymore.

"It's my fault. Me and my brother heard it happening…we just never did anything. Even now, he's still diagnosed with insomnia. I don't know if he'll ever be able to sleep again."

The tall blond began to play with the loose ends on her sleeve. "He needs me…" She raised her head to face Hinata, and smiled. "That's why I'm going there. To visit him for a month or two. However long he needs me to stay; I'll be there for him this time. And while I'm there, I'm going to think long and hard about this. I love him, Hinata, I really do. I even love that stupid face he makes when he has his mouth hanging open without noticing it. But I can't run from this forever."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

They stood behind the corner, holding their breath as the door finally opened. With intense, unwavering eyes they looked on as the two girls emerged from the closet.

"Oh my gosh, I like, never thought _Temari_ of all people!"

"I know, she has like, the cutest shoes! And everyone knows lesbians only where tacky shoes, like, clogs."

"Yeah. Who'd have guessed that she would 'swing' that way."

Sakura covered her eyes, and sobbed. "I didn't want to tell anyone, but they need help! They're obviously under a lot of stress and pain. I'm so worried about Hinata."

One of the girls rolled her eyes – the one of dual buns on either side of her head. "They're lesbians; so what. I'm okay with that."

They stared at her like she was insane. "Are you kidding? This is serious!"

"What, how do we even know they did anything?"

Sakura scoffed. "Yeah, I mean there are about a _million_ different things two teenagers do together. Alone. In a closet. With the door closed."

"My goodness, the scandals never end!" One of the girls shook her head disapprovingly. "No wonder why Ino's slutting around with Nara."

Tenten scolded her. "Marika! Don't say such things."

"What!? We all know it's true. I kinda felt sorry for Temari, but now that I know what a butch she is it all makes sense."

Tenten shrugged. "What they do is none of my business. Why don't you guys take up a hobby…or a life, now that you mention it."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata took slow, dragging steps toward the cafeteria. Sasuke had left class early, and was probably already in the cafeteria waiting for her out of duty. She filled each step with authority, wishing she could plunge her feet into the cement. To be rooted here; anything to stall, to be away from _him._

It hurt too much; seeing him. Thinking about him.

And why he made her throat burn so.

It was the same feeling when she picked up a play bill; passed a theatre; smelled lavender; smelled the leather of suitcaes.

Feelings of a ghost named Past, lingering onto her-unshakable.

She'd rather not.

The dread made her spine tingle with fear as she rounded the corner, mere feet from the cafeteria. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the worst, when she passed a classroom that had an open door.

Curiosity. She was sold.

Slowly, she inched open the door until she could slither through the crack.

What she discovered was not Ino. Rather, it was blond hair, smeared eyeliner, rumpled clothing, and distress, all jumbled together into a tragic mess. Hinata crept towards it, slowly, as if she were approaching a scared animal that'd run away. But Ino hardly noticed. Her eyes remained lowered to ground, right where he was standing in the empty doorway.

It was none of her business – the girl obviously wanted solitude. In fact, Hinata was convinced that her presence would only cast an awkward glare onto the miserable display. She was hardly the ideal candidate to provide emotional relief. Still..

Ino's reverie shattered at the feel of warmth that emanated from her shoulder. Her blue eyes looked frozen in shock as she found herself face to f ace with an angel.

Then she lifted her face, and Ino was breathless. Were it not for those intriguing silver eyes, she would've sworn she was in the presence of something altogether otherworldly. She remembered the first time she had seen Hinata, and thought the girl was rather plain. Cute, but zillions of girls. But here, with the soft light filtering through the air, she looked ethereal, with a circlet of light demanding to linger above her soft hair.

Her soft hand trailed to her abdomen, gently tugging down her wrinkled shirt until it covered her midriff.

So simple, but Ino felt her eyes glaze over with a sheen of tears. Even as she ghosted through the hallways like the walking dead, she did not wipe them away.

She slumped into fifth period; she could just faintly discern his outline behind her layer of tears. His face made the faintest of wrinkles, indicating guilt. But she shook her head.

"Ino?"

Iruka looked extremely awkward, hiding behind his teacher's stick. You could hardly say crying teenage girls were his forte.

"They're not for you."

"P-Pardon?"

Taking her seat, directly in front of him, she didn't stir at all. She would move ahead, leaving him behind.

"They're not for you."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

He lay awake in his bed, staring blankly at his stucco ceilings. His mind was a clutter; even the empty ceilings provided more answers. They had all the answers in fact:

_How do I feel_?

Empty, like the walls and ceilings. His stomach felt hollow – like the bean stock giant had been overcome with hunger, and had spooned at his innards.

Damn her. Damn that girl. And her peculiar stone eyes.

Sighing, he threw the covers off of him, rubbing his wrinkly black-rimmed eyes. He reached under his bed until he felt the familiar handle within his grasp.

His candy apple Fender. The only gift he had ever received from a woman.

Reaching around for the pick, he swung the sleek, slightly aged guitar onto his lap and strummed lazily at the strings. Groaning at the lack of noise, he jammed the cord into his amp and struck down on the strings.

It was lightning. It was thunder. It shook every fiber of his being. Even sitting across his bed, slack in posture, the sound was aggressive and demanding.

He played on. Louder now. Louder. The volume continued to ascend, so loud that he lost consciousness. It was a switch – it clicked, until everything was just right. Volume so loud that his parents would ground him for a month.

Only he didn't have any.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

I know this chapter doesn't have any interaction between the lovebirds to be, but it's one of those things that just need to happen to let the story flow. I hope you guys understand. Thanks for all of the kind reviews!!


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Sorry i accidently loaded this chapter twice. But don't sue me, yeah, cause that ain't nice...**

**Chapter Seven: I love Hanabi.**

_He stood there, a young man of 17, in the middle of an open road. A little ways ahead, where the sky melted into the smoky horizon, he could spot a familiar spiky black head. It was a child, no older than nine. _

_For reasons unknown to him, the young man approached the boy, who still had his back to him, and tentatively reached out a hand towards the boy. It wasn't until he had his large hand ensnared around the boy's thin neck that he bothered to turn around._

_His eyes became bottomless pits of darkness as the man could not control his own limbs and tightened his hold on the boy's neck._

_The child cried out, with the shrill voice that would one day abandon him with the coming of age, until they faded into rough, harsh chokes. Slowly, the tension in the boy's neck loosened until it felt like a limp noodle in his grasp. _

_With one last haggard breath, the boy's legs gave in, sending his sinewy body crashing to the floor._

_Tears of confusion welled in the man's eyes. Still unable to gain control of his body, he felt his arm shoot out like a vipor, latching itself onto the boy's pale leg._

_He was strong; the man effortlessly dragged the boy across the empty road, where the subtle grooves in the road elevated into spikes the length of his palm. With horror, he watched the boy's head leave a trail of blood in its path._

"_A…a…"_

_Soft. The boy's voice was hopelessly soft, from weakness, as it struggled to utter something urgently. _

_A quivering finger trembled its way upward into the air, pointing at the young man's eyes. Peering into the youthful boy's pools of obsidian, the man saw two red sparks glare back at him._

"_A..aniki…"_

_An open wound erupted on the child's forehead, oozing with blood._

_The man peered down at his two fingers, screaming at the bright blood that stained them-_

Thus another sleepless night for our Uchiha Sasuke. The tall, svelte body flinched violently, shaking the young man from unconsciousness yet again. He rubbed his bloodshot eyes, sighing with exhaustion.

_Why now?_

It had been years since that painful moment in his life had been shed from the inner recesses of his mind.

So why, now, did that painful individual torture him so?

Ignore, ignore. Sasuke had resolved to simply shake off the painful memories when the blaring telephone interrupted his precious half-sleep.

Groaning with fatigue, Sasuke rolled over in his sweat-soaked mattress and grabbed the receiver.

"Uchiha residence."

"Uchiha Sasuke, you are receiving a collect call from-"

And all around, the neighbors could hear the unmistakable crackling noise of a phone being ripped from the walls.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Ino honey, what are you doing? The party starts in two hours."

The sleepy blonde tossed beneath her sheets, burrowing her head under the pillow. "I'm not going."

"What? Honey, you know I can't hear you with that pillow over your face!"

Grunting with annoyance, Ino tried to block out her mother's voice. No way was she going to any party. Especially a party that a certain Nara family would be attending.

The beautiful, older replica of Ino huffed, stomping on the stairs. As the sound of her stiletto's pounding on the stairs grew louder and louder, Ino burrowed deeper and deeper into her hole.

"Ino darling, what's the matter with you?" Her mother yanked off her bed sheets. "You love par-….Oh, dear. Oh merciful Jesus!"

And truly, her daughter was a sight to behold with her tousled bed hair, puffy eyes, and rumpled jimjams. From behind the messy hair, Ino smirked triumphantly.

"Well, um, seeing as how you're not properly dressed, your father and I will just inform the cook to whip up something for you. I'm sure Sakura will fill you in on all the deets at school tomorrow. Well, um, ciao darling!"

If there's one thing Ino knew about her mother, it's that she would never make an appearance without looking absolutely perfect (family included).

"Yes, sweet dreams mother."

With the door shut and peace to herself, Ino sighed, digging back under her blankets and fishing her photo album out. She flipped through the pages and stopped when she came across a picture of her and Temari, identically dressed up as ridiculous Madonnas (exaggerated body parts and all) for Halloween.

Flipping through more pages, she noticed with regret that, gradually the pictures of Temari became more and more scarce. _Sad_, she thought. _Sad that I waited until it was too late to notice how I'd cut you out of my life.._

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"No. This hair style is just a complete disaster."

Mrs. Haruno gave the hair dressers the sign; and for the hundredth time, they undid her hair, clawing through Hinata's raw scalp to undo the twists and curls.

"Forgive us Mrs. Haruno."

She waved her hand in dismissal and grabbed the bridge of her nose in distress. "No no, it isn't your fault." Her claws snatched Hinata's chin-length hair, which slithered out of her clutches like water. "Her hair is just too short. It can't be helped."

They had tried braids, updos, even a simple perm, but her choppy, A-line bob cut was simply unfit for any elegant hair styles. In the end, her was flat-ironned to perfection, with a small, pave diamond hair clip placed on the side of her head to compensate. Matching diamond bracelets were latched onto her wrists.

The snooty, expensive hair dresser tutted in disapproval. "Where did this young lady pick up her hair style? At a local punk, heavy-metal concert?"

"_My_ children would never be allowed to have such an abominous haircut."

"But of course, Mrs. Haruno! Your daughter's hair is most becoming."

"A daughter of the world-famous Haruno brand of apparel can't be seen running amuck with such a wild, unkempt hair style." Mrs. Haruno got out her cell phone and dialed. "Please send up the make-up artists."

Hinata kept her gaze locked onto her freshly-manicured toes as a million arms came down to attack her face. She felt like clay, being pushed and molded into their picture perfect image. After hours of plucking, powdering, and a thousand different sized brushes, they deemed her presentable and moved aside to let her see the fruits of their labor.

She looked at the doll before her – pale, flawless complexion, peach-tinted cheeks, coral coated lips, black-lined eyes, and elegantly arched eyebrows. If it weren't for the silk-gloved fingers that mimicked her movements until they collided with the mirror, she would've been positive that this doll was a stranger.

"Now, clothe her in my finest Haruno original."

"But, this dress is simply stunning! Can we waste it on the girl?"

"Ah ah ah, nothing but the best for my new daughter." She shot Hinata a too-big grin that made her spine tingle.

Her cheeks blazed with shame as the maids stripped her of her clothing. She tried to cover herself with her arms, but they were wrenched outwards so that they were parallel to the ground.

The seamstress scrutinized her figure. Hinata felt exposed and vulnerable under the eyes of the crude looking woman.

"Well, she certainly doesn't have the same measurements as your daughter…"

"My apologies. We assumed she'd be the same as our Sakura."

The seamstress sighed. "If only. This one will need the seams taken out…particularly in the bust area."

After the dress was properly fitted, Hinata glanced at the mirror. The dress was a creamy, pearl color with a black sash around the waste that gathered in the back into a bow. It was a strapless dress with a charmingly puffy bubble hem. It fell just a few inches shy of her knees. Black and cream Italian leather stilettos complimented the insanely expensive wardrobe.

Mrs. Haruno nodded in approval. "All things considered, she looks like she was born into royalty. Almost born as a Haruno."

The maids nodded in agreement. "Almost as beautiful as Miss Haruno."

The clock struck seven. Mrs. Haruno adjusted her chic updo and grabbed Hinata by the wrist. "It's time, Hinata." The girl could've sworn the old lady's teeth sharpened as she gave a sinister grin. "Make me look good out there."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Mr. Haruno smiled at the large crowd and took the mic. "Welcome, everyone, to the tenth annual Haruno charity event. The biddings will begin shortly – please be generous in your donations."

He handed the mic to his wife, who had a charismatic air about her. "But before the auctions begin, my husband and I have a story to share with all of you." Her smile saddened into an expression of perpetual sorrow and sympathy. "A week ago, as my husband and I were searching for a needy charity, we stumbled upon an orphanage downtown. As soon as we saw the poor condition the children had to endure, we knew right away that this was where our charity event's proceeds would go to."

Naruto nudged Shikamaru, who looked suicidal with boredom. "Neh, doesn't Sakura-chan look beautiful?" Indeed, the girl looked breath-taking, with her volumous curls, and peach taffeta slip dress.

The lazy teen ignored him. "This whole event is a joke."

Kiba nodded dully in agreement, loosening the tie around his neck. "You know the Harunos only decided to adopt someone 'out of the kindness of their hearts' after the Yamanakas donated half a million to the hurricane disaster relief fund. Of course, they can't be shown up by the Yamanakas. The Haruno and Yamanaka parents have been at each other's throats for years."

"So basically, she's just a little pawn in their schemes for some good publicity."

"…heart-wrenching. When we saw Hinata, she was an undereducated, downbeat girl without a hope in the world. Thanks to the love me and my family have offered, she has began to smile once again."

…Never mind that Hinata had always been enrolled in the most rigorous curriculum available, with top marks to boot.

"Now, I introduce to you, our new daughter, Haruno Hinata!"

When Hinata stepped out, all of the lights shined into her eyes. A million cameras flashed into her eyes, causing the world to swirl into a Technicolor of chaos and disorder.

She felt like a spectacle as the crowd observed her with the eyes of a hungry buzzard. And, lucky her, she was the dead carcass.

As the lights continued to stream into her eyes, her head grew heavier and heavier. Her alabaster skin became a sickly shade of gray as the bright colors swam in her head. Before she could fall and break the heels off of her expensive straps, Sakura rushed towards her and supported her onto her shoulder.

Her mother shot her a stern look of warning, to which Sakura responded by giving the audience a mock grin.

"My, isn't she lovely," cooed the photographers.

"Quite the classic beauty."

Sakura grinned at them. "Isn't she? She really is my sister."

Hinata felt an uncomfortable sting from where Sakura's fingers were pinching into her back.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Starting at $300 is the rare Yamanaka tulip, donated by the _generous_ Yamanakas fromt heir very own botanical garden."

Kiba grunted. "I hate these social events…"

Chouji rolled his eyes. "Then maybe your family should stop hosting those shee-shee dog shows that keep getting you an invite." He looked around. "Say, where's Sasuke? I haven't seen him all night."

Yawning, Shikamaru shrugged. "He hasn't left his room all day since he got home from school. Wouldn't even unlock the damned door when I knocked."

"What's his deal?"

Naruto waved his hand at them in dismissal of their prying. "Just leave the bastard alone. Let him have another one of his episodes."

"Say, where's Temari?" He nudged Shikamaru in the ribs, who numbly swayed from the force of the blonde's blows.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the boys, who simply stared at the genius with mixed expressions of confusion and sympathy.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

­After the servants had spent the last half hour fanning her, Hinata felt well enough to stand on her own. One of the maids sighed with relief.

"I daresay, the lass isn't good with bright lights, is she?"

"No wonder why she's as white as a ghost."

Hinata lifted herself, wobbling at first to maintain her balance. When she steadied herself, she gazed up at the marvelous sapphire sky, interrupted only by the brilliant fireworks above. As the colorful lights continued to brighten up the night sky, Hinata felt a bittersweet fusion of sorrow and warmth fill her to the brim, until a single tear slip down her porcelain cheek.

"Aren't they beautiful, lass?" the maid piped to Hinata, who was last in a daze, still staring at the fireworks. "I absolutely love Hanabi."


	8. Chapter 8

_**Chapter 8 ****- Down, please.**_

Sakura sat in class, twirling her bubblegum locks around her finger in the perfect portrait of cliché boredom. She looked at Hinata, who was looking rather sullen, with her head nestled neatly against her crossed arms. The trophy-child noted with sarcasm that her surrogate sister wasn't scribbling away in her notes as usual; in fact she looked as if she didn't belong in this classroom, much less this planet. Her pristine eyes lulled underneath her lowered lids, casting shadows of emptiness into the barren voids.

"_What's got Princess so emo-tastic this fine morning?"_

"_No matter"_ she thought. _"Either way, by the end of today you'll end up wishing you'd never laid eyes on Sasuke-kun."_ She turned to face a red-haired boy, to whom she sent a sly wink.

Yet Hinata was worlds away, far from Sakura's reverberating vibes of vengeance and animosity. She continued to stare aimlessly at the nothingness in front of her, soaking it in with religious devotion. For at this point in time, having nothing was better than the dark abyss that was left behind from words born in blood-red ink.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Staring at her felt vaguely like turning the corner into an old neighborhood; _the_ neighborhood, the one you grew up in. Where you sold lemonade, played baseball in the streets until cars dared to run you over, and learned that growing up meant growing apart. Like returning to the one place that hadn't changed, only to find the changes in yourself.

Far off, like a hazy distant memory. He saw her, and saw things he had forgotten to look at. Forgotten to care about.

"_When did I become so much…like you?"_

In the midst of his self-resentment, he couldn't help but resent the broken girl beside him. How hard we fall, when we fall away from the things that remind us that we're still living, breathing, waiting.

Hinata…how miserable a sight you are.

He vaguely recalled the way he had done what ever he could to break her, shatter her, unravel her threads until they spilled to the floors.

But she seemed so far away…they hardly ever talked. He couldn't reach out… it had been so long…

So very long indeed.

His thoughts pleaded to say it…but he couldn't. In the cluttered puzzle that happened to be his life, there seemed to be no place left for her.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

_Dear Sunshine,_

_I realize that only yesterday you had opened me to the horrors of adoption. But I must write again. For here, I thought you had forgotten all about me after a mere week without letters (you usually have them postmarked the day you read mine). While I was relieved to have finally heard from you, I must disclose that the letter in it of itself left me with a rather unsettling discovery._

_Do you remember the first letter you wrote me? I recall what immense amusement it brought…and admittedly, joy. Sunshine I realize that you must be aware of the things I've done; the people I've hurt. And though I feel no remorse, that very reason has left me to utterly despise my being._

_I never apologize, nor do I regret. But that's not to say that I don't resent myself for it. Yes, Sunshine; I abhor myself with every fiber of my being. This shell that I am; it is a virus, a poison, a curse. One, I am aware, that lacks a cure. _

_So I am simply left to detest myself. And for all that I have done, though I do not agree with repentance, I have chosen to deny myself of all that brings me any remnant of joy._

_I eat enough to sustain this shell, for death certainly intrigues me. _

_I refrain from intimating myself with individuals, lest they bring me too much joy. I realize that in this society, in this world, in this hierarchy, I am unworthy of being. Do I agree? Certainly not. But I have reason enough to know that if the world should feel so, I should submit._

_Why is this of any relevance to you? _

_Well the thing is, I mentioned above that I had experienced immense joy at the arrival of your last letter. And that, I must confess, is simply unacceptable._

_I cannot atone by feeling remorse, begging for forgiveness, or even admitting my wrong doings. So, I am left with this denial._

_Yes; I deny myself of your letters, your company, your salvation._

_I do not love you, Sunshine; that is not the case. But you intrigue me very much. I do admit that for some inexplicable reason, I truly do care for your well-being. I truly wish you the best in life:_

_I wish for you to rise above this awful oath that you have submitted yourself to._

_I wish for you to rise above that bitch-sister of yours._

_I wish for you to rise above the grievances that mar us beyond recognition._

_I have affection for you._

_And for that, my Sunshine, I bid you farewell._

_You can detest me, loathe me, blame me. _

_It was a response I am all too familiar with, and ready to accept. _

_With utmost sincerity,_

_4128._

She had reread the letter in a frantic rush before crumpling it in her docile hands. She did not particularly disagree with him; the anger, essentially, was from this repetitive cycle of denial that had once again befallen her.

It felt so contrived, so cliché, but she could not help but wonder, _"Why am I denied all that I cherish?"_

Perhaps it was her fault for daring to treasure something. Perhaps it was better to cherish nothing, for then you would never lose anything. Because everything is hideously meaningless to you.

But she could never bring herself to do it. Sure, she too denied herself of things that she had long since missed. So she and he were one in the same.

Still she grieved:

Over her decision to value things.

Over the loss of her confidante.

Over the loss of her hope.

Yes, he, the murderer, the killer, the demon, was her hope.

And he was gone.

And when one's hope is snatched from them, it is somewhat difficult to care about the atrocities of AP physics and brooding forced-upon babysitters.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

The huntress waited by the door, biding her time as she locked her eyes in on the target. He was surrounded; it was still too early to pounce. Sighing with irritation, she flipped her silky tresses, waiting for the moment to strike.

At the sound of the bell, she smiled, standing aside from the door as bodies filed out of the classroom. As her prey clumsily stowed his things into a beige shoulder bag, she pounced from the doorframe, sauntering towards him.

"Hi Ken."

He snapped around at the sound of her voice, smiling to find his desperate apparitions materialize before him. "Haruno-san!"

She winced at the eagerness in his voice; it was creepy, to say the least. But she masked her repulsion under a veil of sugared-sweetness. "I've told you…it's Sakura" she growled into his trembling ears.

To think that someone trembled at the thought of you was unsettling, but there was nothing to be done.

"Y-Yes, Sakura!"

She smiled, feathering her hands onto his shoulders, and peering up into his eyes. "Say, Ken…I've got a problem, and I think I need your assistance."

"Anything!" he gunned back, and his imagination was pitiable.

"See…my sister's been doing some things that are questionable…"

"Well…I'm afraid that's the better portion of our student body. And I hardly think Hinata is the type-"

"With a girl" she spat.

His face froze in minor disgust, at the very thought of thinking Hinata would be anything but pure. "A-Are you…certain? I mean, I'm hardly the one to settle what appears to be personal dilemmas. I'd be happy to refer her to our reverend."

Sakura opened her eyes, which seared into his frightened face. "She's my sister. Help her! You're the president."

"Well…it's only a club. I mean, I'm not qualified to deal with-"

"Fix her! Do it for the sake of her salvation! I won't have my own sister die at the hands of her mortal sin!"

Ken turned green, and Sakura almost pitied him. _Almost_.

"Ken, you're the_only_ one I can turn to.." and at this, she leaned in towards him, brushing herself against his quivering arm.

He stared at his arm, and sighed. He truly looked sad; miserable even.

"Today?"

"Yes! At lunch." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek before scampering off, grinning at her success. As he watched her disappear down the hall, his grimace deepened tenfold.

"How pitiful it is, Haurno-san." He rubbed at his arm, as if it had been tainted. "Man."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

It is ironic, to say the least.

There were two bodies, two minds, two souls. They had never been so close, yet so far.

He held doors open for her: she nodded in thanks.

He carefully explained the instructions, slowly, patiently. She graced him with a smile; a rushed one, a hasty one, but a smile all the same.

He offered to hold her books – she thankfully accepted, handing it to them. He softly held onto her wrists, gently guiding her through the crowds. She steadily followed, close enough that the usual stagecoach could not run between them.

And all the worlds collapsed for their admirer, secret and inconspicuous, alike. For surely, this could mean one thing, and one thing only:

The Uchiha and silent Haruno had finally hooked up.

Oh, if only they knew.

Uchiha Sasuke is not a mean boy. He was bred into a family of wealth, and with wealth is its mistress Manners, whom trails behind it ever so stoutly. Yes, Uchiha Sasuke was a boy of manners. And so, he treated the quiet Haruno with the utmost politeness.

Haruno Hinata was not a mean girl. In fact, she possessed what you would call a…general love for all things human and nature. She volunteered at soup kitchens, she stopped forest fires, she knitted sweaters for animals in the wintertime. Hinata, the essence of sweetness, did not find it natural to loathe someone. And so, she tolerated his presence as another human being – for all human beings possess _some_ redeeming quality (Sakura has the silkiest hair, after all).

But surely, you say, this is unlike typical Uchiha demeanor. This goes against everything that everything stands for!

And Hinata! There was not a trace of awkwardness, coyness, and subtle rebellion. They might as well be in love!

But if only they knew. The two were close in the earthly sense, but their souls could not possibly be farther.

The two had simply…disregarded each other to the extreme.

Sasuke was not opening doors for Hinata: it was for some nameless, faceless, insignificant girl. And Hinata was not smiling at Sasuke: she was smiling at the nameless caretaker, who was only doing his job.

True, they were no longer loathing each other – they had completely erased any and all identity of each other. They, to put it simply, had forfeited all efforts.

Too tired was he to exert effort in harassing her. Too weary was she in avoiding his presence. The two were tired, and thus had reduced them to their lowest, most primal state of living.

Uchiha Sasuke, a boy of manners, carefully held the cafeteria door for Hinata, ushering her in with a slack, gelatin hand. Hinata bowed her head in appreciation, as though the weight of her head were too much to bear, and walked in. And together, the two walked together into the lunchroom, not as Uchiha Sasuke and Haruno Hinata. It was Uchiha Sasuke with some girl in need, and Haruno Hinata with some boy doing his job.


	9. Chapter 9

Thank you so much, you beautiful readers of mine! For your patience and enthusiasm! And remember I'll be happy to clarify anything you guys have in mind A big thanks to everyone who added Confessions on their favorites list :D Thank you, one and all!

**Chapter 9 – Out of the Light I Fear, and Into the Darkness Where I Dwell**

_Dear Temari,_

_I fucked up. I fucked up big time. You should hate me. I hate me!_

_I'm so sorry. I am so sorry, I don't know where to begin! Damn, I sound like a moron_

_Hope we can put this aside us?_

_I just want you to know that although I slept with your best friend, I would never choose him over you. You are so precious to me, and beautiful! Not in that way, but you are way hotter than Shika anyway and I just thought I'd mention that. Not that I'm trying to flatter you, or anything, it's true he has that stupid ponytail, and he always smells like deer._

_Wow I'm running out of paper._

_I'm so afraid of losing you. So afraid that you won't be able to forgive me. I only wished I'd known that before I stabbed you in the back like this._

_Sigh. There are so many things I need to say, but you deserve to hear it in person. That way you can scream at me. That's almost fair, right?_

_I've missed you Temari. Not just for these past two days. It's been a long time. Please call when you get back. _

_Ino_

"What are you reading?"

She jumped, even at the sound of his whispery voice. It was so unlike him to talk, she had grown being accustomed to his silence. But it was a good change, and the sound of his surprisingly delicate voice brought a slight, warm grin to her face. 

"Just a letter from someone at school."

"The quiet one?"

She eyed the boy curiously. "No, not this time."

"…Is she a friend?"

"Yes." The response was involuntary, and for that her grin blossomed into a full-blown smile. Yes, she certainly was a friend. They would definitely talk, and Temari would definitely give that girl a piece of her mind. But friends all the same.

"Ah."

It was still difficult for him; she could hear the strains in his voice as he attempted to make conversation, but it was an attempt, and for that she could comfortably smile. "GaaGaa?"

"Temari…"

"Fine, fine…yeah, I'm pushing it. I ain't afraid to admit it!" She smiled, turning down the lights. "So…Gaara the man, would you like to hear another story?"

"I'm hardly of age to hear bedtime stories…"

"Suit yourself, Gaara the man." She got up and opened the door, leaving it slightly ajar as she took painstakingly slow steps down the hallway to the lobby. _"Any minute now. Any minute."_ As she neared the bend that lead to the cafeteria, she heard it – the soft, raspy voice that she had trained herself to be alert for.

"Temari…"

Sighing, she walked back to his room. "One of these days, I'm just going to hop into the car before you can change your mind again."

He huffed in anger, folding his arms like a child. The action looked out of place on his tall frame, and it sadly reminded her of why she was here; why _he_ was here.

Temari reached under the bed and fished out the worn, slightly tattered teddy bear, offering it to him. When he refused it, she shoved it into his arms, and he didn't protest. "So I was at the mall with Tenten one day, when I saw these _beauuuitful_ sling-backs, and they were in the _perfect_ shade of turquoise-

And it wasn't long before the black circles of his eyes could be seen as he fell into a steady sleep.

Sometimes we woke up every few hours, but it was progress.

_Progress, Ino. Progress._

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

It had been days since he remembered his last decent meal. Already he could see his flesh clinging tautly to his lean muscles, stretched across them like vinyl wrap. Those countless nights, digging through old cabinets, strumming away his pain. It had certainly taken a toll on his body, which screamed for the fruit cup she so feebly poked at with her spoon.

At that moment, the apple she had picked up toppled from her hand as she collapsed onto the table. It produced a hollow, echoing sound as the bright, juicy fruit rolled until it nudged him in the elbow.

The fruit had nudged him in the elbow, as if ensnaring him in its irresistible seduction. He picked it up. How long it had been since he had thought of food.

"_You're not even a person"_ his conscience spat at him.

He swatted his conscience away, bringing the apple up to his lips. _So tired…just a little higher…_

But at that precise moment, fate would have it that the forbidden fruit would be destined to a rotten death as it fell once again, this time to the floor.

Sasuke let the forbidden fruit fall from his grasp as all thoughts were severed from his brain, and a million different things filled his head. An internal storm raged within his head, and he simply allowed his feet to take off.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Sakura felt a perverse sense of excitement tingle up her spine, multiplying in her fingers as she eyed Ken from across the cafeteria. He avoided her gaze, nodding subtly at her when she had eagerly given him the cue. It was sickening, the joyous apprehension she felt at what was to come. It was sickening, in the same way that you feel a sickening sense of pride at seducing another's husband; cheating on your diet; spreading vile rumors. It was the sickeningly delicious taste of power.

And Sakura was no stranger to it. There was always that last-minute hesitation – guilt's feeble attempts at holding her back.

Sakura turned to face Uchiha Sasuke, who at the moment was watching Hinata. Oh, Sasuke-kun, is this how it's always going to be? Me, watching you watch some other girl?

It's no wonder she was always sighing. There was too much for her soul to bear – she just had to let some of it out.

Was it possible that this is the way it was destined to be? Honestly, for a girl who had to balance all of her extracurriculars and immense social status, this was too much, even for Haruno Sakura. And she couldn't help but wonder…

"_Is it…even worth it?"_

Turning once again to observe the object of her frustration, Sakura found the answer to her question:

He was, to put it frankly, _perfect_.

The smoldering eyes. The air of intrigue and mystery. The devilishly handsome face. The perfectly toned physique. The intelligence, the wealth, the reputation.

The thought of all that perfection going to waste, belonging to someone else – she couldn't have it.

"_Sakura doll, what is that thing on your head?"_

"_Ne, Oka-san? This?" The cute pink-haired child pointed her stubby little finger at the daisy entwined in her silken locks._

"_No doll, your outrageously big forehead." The beautiful older woman snatched her daughter's face in her grasp, creating mental lines of contour and bone structure, but shook her head. "No, I suppose you're much too young to get that surgically fixed. And I'm sure you'll grow into it with age. But yes, darling, I mean that hideous weed tangled into your beautiful hair."_

_Little Sakura made a face. "Ie, Oka-san. It's not a weed; it's a daisy."_

_Her mother scoffed at her antics. "Why, if you spend so much time muddling about in the garden, the neighbors will mistake you for a lowly servant girl, and we certainly can't have that."_

_Mrs. Haruno reached for the flower, but Sakura jumped back a little. "Demo, Suzumi-chan picked it for me."_

_The emeralds in her mother's famous eyes shattered into dust. "Suzumi-chan? You mean the maid's daughter."_

"_Hai, Suzumi-chan is my friend!" Sakura proceeded to smile, but her mother's venomous voice made it short-lived._

"_Play with dogs, Sakura, and you'll become infested with fleas. Do you want that? Is that really what you want?"_

_She stared at the tips of her shiny black mary janes. "Ie, Oka-san."_

"_You don't want to associate with the lower class. You want the pretty, nicely-dressed friends. The best friends, right?"_

"_Hai, oka-san."_

_Mrs. Haruno reached behind her and plucked a small red rose from the bush, holding it in front of Sakura's face. Her face became impatient, as if she were expecting Sakura to do something._

_Understandingly, Sakura pulled the daisy from her hair and let it fall to the floor and her mother tucked the rose in its place. The thorns started to scratch at her scalp, but she dared not complain._

"_A rose, my sweet. Only the best for my rose."_

She looked at Sasuke with longing. "Only the best."

She brushed guilt's fingers away from her shoulders, now free from its release, and crossed the building to where Ken was. Her eyes zeroed in on Hinata, with every bit of antipathy she could conjure. "What are you waiting for?"

His eyes were down-turned, sad. Defeated. "You are aware, Haurno-san, of what this will do."

"I didn't ask for you to go moral on me. I'm asking you to save my sister from her sick ways."

He looked down at the floor, disgusted with his weakness. Then, inhaling deeply, as if the air were fumes of poison that would numb him from what he was about to do, he turned and began to walk in her direction.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

It was dark. There was a thin sliver of light pooling into her room, but she shied away from it. The light always revealed too much. She was just fine in the dark, thankyouverymuch.

She sat there, crouched against a corner, staring into the darkness that was so safe. She could see, fear, feel nothing. And that was okay, too.

But then something terrible happened. Fireworks exploded off in the room. The bright, beautiful lights filled the small room, inching closer to her. She opened her mouth in a silent scream that no one could hear. Not that there was anyone to hear.

Damn it.

"_Aren't they beautiful, lass?"_

Damn them. Damn the light.

"_I absolutely love Hanabi!"_

She covered her eyes, but the bright lights continued to explode inside her head. Hanabi. Hanabi. Hanabi. Somebody stop the Hanabi.

_The beautiful, kindly woman patted the bulge of her stomach, laughing beautifully. _

"_What is that?"_

_The small girl nodded, still confused by the mysterious lump protruding from her mother._

"_This, this is Hanabi, my little one."_

"_Ga? Hanabi?"_

_She smiled, the lovely folds on her eyes twinkling magically. "Hai. It will be Hanabi. Our Hanabi."_

_And the small girl ran her hand over the lump cautiously, jumping with a start as she felt a kick from inside._

She screamed, she screamed, the white noise enveloping the small, dark room. She pressed into the corner, into the dark she felt accustomed to and the light she had grown to fear. No, please. No. Stop.

Stop.

She flinched, opening her eyes, waking to find her arms ensnared by a pair of hands. She blinked as the cafeteria lights filtered into her eyes, flinching again.

Tenten's mouth was formed into an "o" and she was violently fighting against the hands of two of the Queen Bee's underlings.

Hinata tried to halt herself, but she was roughly dragged by someone with a shock of red hair, tied into a low ponytail. Who was he again? President of some club…

But it was all so fast. Soon she was in the middle of the cafeteria, where the red-haired boy sat. The others at the table stared at her in confusion, and she at them. The boy, the one who had dragged her, and he was staring darkly at the ground. She tried to break away – the eyes were uncomfortable, but there were hands rooting her to the ground.

As time continued to pass, the hands released her, and she saw Sakura before her, falling to her knees before the boy as she pleaded for something. The boy sighed, before reaching into his pocket, and retrieved a small leather-bound book. The other people at the table widened their eyes. They tried talking to him, but suddenly Hinata was overcome with pain as she was forced into a chair, tight ropes cutting into her body.

The hell lord's snakes twisted around her body, stunning her to stone as she sat helplessly and watched their eyes.

Eyes…they were looking at her. So judgmentally. She tried closing her eyes, but she could still feel them searing into her.

It burned, white hot, like head lights. The thought of them made her thrash violently, and the pain became unbearable at her resistance. Her arms screamed out in pain, but still the ropes cut into her.

Their eyes, the judgment.

She opened her eyes, finding herself immersed in darkness once again.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Save Hinata!" Her shrill scream was enough to pierce through the rumbling noise of the cafeteria, reducing it to silence.

One of Sakura's friends, with a face pseudo-sympathy, grabbed Hinata's arms, forcing her onto a chair and winding a rope around her. The boy reluctantly reached into his pocket, grabbing his Bible. With shaking hands and shaking heart, he pressed it against her forehead, as if he were wielding a white-hot brand.

"God of Heaven, release this woman from her sinful lusts, her perverse desires, her severed heart. Salvage her from the bonds of the evil one, and deliver her from her perversion of your beauty, and your bestowment of love."

"Ken, what the hell!" One of the girls at the table sprang to her feet, ripping the Bible from his hands. "Have you been watching 'Saved' one too many times? Well let me quote it for you: "This is not a weapon!"

The other members of the Christian club rose to their feet, glaring angrily at him. "What's the meaning of this? Do you seriously accuse this girl of homosexuality? You can't be serious!"

He shook his head. "You don't understand." He spoke so quietly, only those at the table could hear. "If not me, then someone else will do it. I take full responsibility for my sins. I'll bear it all here, so you won't have to."

Sakura grabbed him, staring fiercely into his eyes. "Do something!" she said, louder than necessary. At the sound of her voice, the student body leaned closer, looking on at the scene in varying degrees of surprise or disgust. "Save Hinata from her perversion of God's creation!"

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Sasuke looked up, to see her being dragged away.

He watched as they confided her to a chair, and she cowered in her entrapment as the whole school looked on at her like a spectacle.

_A little girl, cowering in the corner of a room in front of a group of children. They look on, some sympathetic, others mocking._

Sakura knelt onto the ground, screaming, pleading. Yelling into Hinata's face.

_An old man. The girl trembling at his feet. Him yelling, humiliating her, shaming her. _

Hinata with tears welling in her eyes as they scrutinize her; a leather-bound book shoved into her face.

_The little girl cries, as the old man shoves a playbill into her face, ripping it. Tearing out the pages. _

The young man runs, snatches the book from his hands, and hits him across the face with it.

_A little boy runs, snatching the playbill from the old man._


	10. Chapter 10

Hello readers! After reading some of your reviews, I've become somewhat troubled. A lot of you have been expressing confusion with this story, and I understand that it can be confusing to read a story that isn't quite so direct. And still half of you seem to be enjoying the story and having no difficulties at all. I am at a loss at what to do, readers. I mean, I tend to write in a more vague style, but of course none of you are mind readers and it might be hard to understand my gibberish. So I'm asking all of you for a favor, by telling me if (1) you would like me to write in a more simpler prose, with less flowery stuff or (2) I shouldn't change a thing or (3) just tune it down a little, taking out only the really abstract stuff. I appreciate you guys for all of your valuable feedback, and I only want what's most enjoyable to you guys  So let me know!

**Chapter Ten: Or As I Like to Call it…**

Was this possible?...

…How?

Perhaps if she believed in Karma, she'd be able to breath. She'd rightfully sleep at night, knowing that in some past life, she had done something awful, terrible, horrible – to deserve all that had happened. In a former life, she had certainly done something to merit this fate. How easy it would be to accept this then.

She was the detested pale-eyed monster:

A notorious murderer of thousands.

A ruthless hellbound for hire.

A demon of stolen innocence.

A fiend of flowering virgins.

A consumer of children.

But she wasn't any of those things.

And so she didn't.

At night, buried in her crypt of satin, she'd roll in her grave like the restless, unavenged dead. Perhaps it had been her fault after all. Maybe she had been asking for too much-

"_Hinata-sama…freedom isn't a luxury; it is a right. Never let anyone deny you of it…"_

The hauntingly harmonic voice screeched in her eyes, scratching the insides of her ears with its callous talons. That voice…

She wanted to believe in it, but it was just another dead voice. It was no better than the rest. She wondered what happened to that voice that was little more than a ghost of the past. She really did; it's just a shame that no one could be bothered to do the same for her.

And now, with this morning's letter, it really was true.

There was not a soul in the world that Hinata could trust in. Not a soul that stayed awake at night, wondering what became of her.

Sleep with peace, dream at ease, world apart from my heart.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"_It's you…_"

He looked at her, slumped against the bench, eyes still rubbed raw from the tears.

"_Those familiar, gray eyes…"_

She was cold granite, smooth marble: unmoving as she sat, the only motion coming from the tendrils of her hair, swaying in the slight draft.

He remembered that day where, she lying beneath him, had shed tears.

And _that_ was precisely as he remembered her:

Wide, gray eyes. Shining silver from the tears. The chasms of grief carved between her thin brows.

Ask anyone, and they'd tell you that all they remembered of the quiet heiress was her tear-stained eyes.

"…_Heiress?"_

_Five years old, but with the expression of age._

_Her deceptively childlike features betrayed the signs of fatigue and stress on her cherubim face. _

_The delicate skin of youth, still fresh from lack of exposure to the sun. But it was far too pale – the color of sickness and exhaust. Smooth from youth, but from deprivation of excitement, enthusiasm, activity._

_A smooth, unmarred forehead, save for the telltale wrinkle that was etched between her eyebrows from constant use._

_She always passed by room 187, right next door to hers, too slowly. Too sumptuously. Her face would poke into the window, though she was far too short to reach it. Yes, she dared to exert the effort needed to boost herself on the tips of her feet. All for just a glance – just a taste, of the wondrous going-ons of the place. _

_And at precisely 3:15 p.m., every afternoon, a stern looking men with a rather prim visage would come to gather her. He would've thought the man a murderer, had it not been for his hand protectively grasping her tiny, needy one._

And here she was, sitting against the bench as though it were the only thing she had to lean against. At least, her back was protected from wandering daggers, and she could breathe with somewhat ease.

Even with her look of wealth, she looked hopelessly deprived. There was a stub of joy in her eyes – a once vivacious spark that had dwindled to near extinction. Yes, she was beautiful, but bland as well.

Perhaps that was what made her beautiful. She demanded nothing, no attention, or assistance. She was simply there, with her pale face, dark hair, dull eyes – you could make of her what you pleased.

Beautiful, yes. Definitely. But also—

The perfect doll to society.

At least, at some point in the past. Now? Now she was a washed up reminder of her past-self. The whimsically bouncy child that she was – now a sullen young adult with dead sparks.

There was the occasional spark that spontaneously gave way. But that was all.

Turning around, he gazed down in a puddle, staring down in disdain at his lines of fatigue. So reminiscent of-

"Fuck."

Reminiscent of-

"Fuck you."

Even with his soft voice, women and children began to steer away from the angst-ridden young man.

"…Tsunade's definitely gonna give us shit for cutting…but I don't suppose I give a shit." He sighed, beautiful even in his fatigue, loosening his shirt collar and baring his beautifully milky neck. "Your day's been shit too…so I don't suppose you care either."

Reaching into a black plastic bag, he fished out a suspicious brown glass bottle, wiping off the moisture with his sleeve.

After all, you didn't look like Sasuke without enjoying the many perks. It's a shame he never smiled; you'd think someone like him would have it all. Or, as Sasuke would say, only those who didn't think would assume that.

Which, regrettably, was the masses.

Popping open the bottle and tipping his head back, he emptied the contents of the bottle into his throat, letting the burning liquid sear down the inside of his throat. He set his bottle on the ground, and uncapped another one when he caught sight of her.

She was staring at the ground like it was her home. And it probably was – at least, the closest she'd ever get to one. Especially now, it was where she felt she belonged.

Pulling out yet another one of his bottles and shoving it in front of her face, he nearly rolled his eyes at how she slightly jumped in her seat.

"Ah! She moves." He threw his head back, draining the bottle of its contents. "Princess moves," he slurred slightly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She stared at the bottle, waiting for him to retract it, but he didn't. Then, perhaps to simply avoid meeting his gaze, she accepted his offer and shyly uncapped it with a _pop!_

She looked around guiltily, as if the noise had alerted all of her rebellious act. Smirking, he fell back onto the bench, tilting his head up to the hazy sky. A melted orange creamsicle in the post-afternoon gloom.

He tipped his bottle towards her in an act resembling camaraderie, while she blinked viciously in an attempt to force down hers. "Here's to being emotionally tormented, besieged, and neglected in every conceivable way." He passed a wayward glance at her, bone-white fingers choking the bottle's neck like she was begging it to save her. "Or as I like to call it…"

Gulp, blink, cry. Burn, cringe, cry.

"…royally fucked." He smiled – a crooked, top-teeth smile. The kind of smile you smile, only because there just aren't any other opportunities for it to arise.

They sat on the bench, far enough to appear as a serendipity yet close enough for empathy, the melted creamsicle sky leaking past their foggy minds and clouded thoughts.

"…_What happened?"_ To the sparkling young girl with silver in her eyes? It seemed improbable, impossible – the girl she was then, the shell she is now. Not a chance.

But even Sasuke knew what the ghosts of past could do. Kissing you inside out, leaving behind the sheddings of your past. A sad, cast-aside lover you'll be as they throw you away, so easily. Carelessly.

-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Sakura darling, where on earth were you?"

Ignoring her mother, Sakura brushed past her parents and dragged herself up the stairs. She clung onto the stair rails, stabilizing herself from the swirling abyss that was her conscious.

"Huh, those two sure are quiet this evening."

Mr. Haruno waited for her to correct herself, but only stared at her stupidly before turning back to the paper.

She staggered down the hall, clutching her riotous insides with a quaking hand. Memories kept flooding in – Sasuke running out of the cafeteria. Sasuke running out on her. The rest was just a jumbled mess. Yes, perhaps she had been mad, doing what she did. But it was difficult to think when the ground kept shaking beneath her.

As Sakura approached her room, she could feel a low echo rumbling through her head. Was it her sanity speaking? Or lack thereof?

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata sat on her bed, cradling it. Her ancient Gibson bass guitar. It was the only possession she really claimed as her own. Take her second-hand clothes, her non-existent accessories, even her neglected new designer goods. But this vintage lady, her cherished Blue Duchess, was truly hers. It was the first and last thing she had ever bought with her sparse savings. It was a stroke of garage sale destiny that had brought them together.

She plucked at the strings, the electric blue shadows reflecting onto her pallid, ivory eyes.

The rifts filtered into her core, bounding off her rubber band heart. Back, forth. Back, forth. They collided onto her heart, that lifeless little thing, and recoiled right back, beating against her rib cage.

It could only take so much, but the exercise suited her far more than anything else had.

As for her eyes, they floated towards the ceiling and she could swear the ceiling was spinning, spinning, strumming, strumming, her fingers, they did.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

The door flew open and Sakura tumbled in, rolling until her head collided against the bedposts. And she lay there on her back, staring up at the spinning ceiling, the universe spinning about until it would come crashing down on her.

All that she knew, all that she had learned.

What was the point, if there were exceptions?

"Bubblegum, bubblegum stuck in your hair…" she hiccupped, cupping her hands over her mouth. She twisted her fingers through her own candy locks, giggling as she combed them easily through her silken threads.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Strumming. It was the only way she could say it-anything. The vibrations she felt, it was music. She knew it. Even in the pitch darkness, she had never been so certain of such clarity.

The weight, the barriers, the burden.

It was always too much. But still she couldn't. Only through her instincts, the buzz in her fingertips as she continued to strum her guitar, her heartstrings.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"Oh, it's too fast…slow down…" Sakura slurred, clutching her stomach and rolling onto her side.

She swatted her hands through the air, begging the room to slow down. Before she could inhale, her eyes bulged out of their sockets, an explosive array of peppermint green, as she crawled to the bathroom on all fours, obliterating her nylons.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata clutched her head, throwing the blue Gibson over her head and rubbed her temples. She closed her eyes, remembering his cruel-thin lips as they formed those words. Ironic, such clarity and awakening from one so ambiguous.

Had he meant for her to see?

Too bad. She did.

"Ro-" she coughed, clearing her throat, tasting blood. The air was cold: ice needles pricking the insides of her throat.

"Ro-" she scowled. Melt it, the ice, and maybe you can fight it.

"Royally fucked!" she rasped, erupting into a fit of coughs. She felt something more than coughs slither up her throat and covered her mouth, swaying towards the bathroom.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Two slams, two closures.

Two girls knelt to the floor in submission, in surrender. Two sets of tears. Two toilets. Two souls that bear all, their struggles, their stomachs.

Two girls, both with just a little too much to drink.

Not so alike, and still not so different.


	11. Chapter 11

Hello! I'd like to thank you all for letting me know what you think of my writing style. Taking all of them into consideration, I think the best decision at this time would be option 3 (toning it down). I'll try to make it as understandable as I can, and should you readers express further confusion, I will revise it once again  I apologize, AP English gets to me and I do get carried away with the symbolism/metaphor and whatnot. So I will tone it down without being so blunt. Thank you again, some of you have been so encouraging

**Chapter 11 – He waited.**

"_Thoughts"  
Flashback_

Disgrace.

He didn't understand why, but he could not find it in himself to avoid looking at the mirror. It was that damned human curiosity; he simply could not avoid it. What was it that drove him to do so? To torture himself with the haunting reflection?

Was it the suspicion? The anxiety?

For surely he could see it: the uncanny resemblance, the growing familiarity, the mounting similarities. There was no mistaking it, denying it, avoiding it. He had to have seen it.

But no. All he saw was his own visage, throwing back its rigid head in manic laughter— neck cracking grotesquely, the depthless eyes of murk that only widened with the laughter. It was a deep, throaty laugh, but there was a remnant of shrillness that bled his ears.

Just like old times. _"You always laughed at me…without moving a single muscle."_

The wrinkles. When had he gotten those wrinkles? And right below the eyes…outlining his perfectly thin nose. They were still faint, but they were unmistakably there.

And his hair…when had it gotten so long? So long he could nearly gather it in a loose rubber band. In a low ponytail, in fact, the stupid kind he despised so much. Despised the most. Long so his bangs had gathered on either side of his face. Leaving a wide open target. Right between the eyes, go north, and there it was; the bluish-white skin that looked permanently bruised.

Why had he let it happen?

…Why hadn't he noticed?

Time. Subtle changes over time…funny how you never notice the changes until you're beyond recognition.

It disgusted him. The bitter taste of disdain filled his mouth, and he sank it down as he ravaged his drawers for it: a rusty silver blade shining in the bathroom lights.

This rusty razor blade – it had been placed in this drawer for a very different reason. _Very_ different, indeed.

A same cause, though, all the same.

He slashed, oh he slashed. How often he had imagined doing so, at precisely measured locations. How wonderful, glorious it would be, he thought. The fanfare, the bright lights, the flashing heartsblood. Splatter. Flash. Beautiful flash. The red, the cuts, the slash, the lines of actions. Decisions, calculated, organized and ready.

How different it turned out to be. There would be no attraction; no witness drawn by the brilliant display. It was not planned, calculated, prepared.

It was better.

So much so, in fact.

The spontaneity, the raw, uncontrived reactions. Fistfuls he grabbed at a time, sawing away with the long razor. The black stubs flew erratically, piercing into his skin as he hacked like a lunatic.

Panting, he stopped, watching the black spikes fly up into the air, feeling his cease of energy and falling back to the earth. As did he.

The mirror, obscured by bits of hair and fog from his labored breath showed…nothing. Nothing at all. Not a thing.

Just the way he liked it.

Fluffing up his hair, brushing away any stray bits, he got dressed and ran out the door with an extra bounce in his step. Now even Sasuke wasn't ignorant – he knew well enough how attractive he was. But Sasuke figured it was high time his exterior matches his insides, so he was hardly the check-hair-before-school type of guy.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

It's a curious concept, this thing called hope.

Like when you stumble into the kitchen with a raging appetite. You open the refrigerator, and it's positively packed, but with nothing to eat. So you close the door, wander about, poke around in the pantry. And five minutes later you're facing the open door yet again, hoping that in those brief moments, something edible had magically appeared. …Why?

Was it the glacial air, brushing against your cheeks in cold reality?

Who knew. Hinata didn't.

Because if she did, maybe she could have saved herself from the pain and prevented herself from it. Hoping – it did no good. It was wind that lifted you high into the heavens, kept you suspended in midair, only to deteriorate and send you down crashing to your brutal death.

Every single time.

Even during the interviews, so many years ago. The visits from all those happy, unfortunate couples. They would watch, secretively, and all eyes would always be drawn to her. She was, after all, the perfect child: a portrait of innocence, youth, and whimsical beauty.

Despite the caretaker's insistence, they would demand an interview. And it was just train wrecks after that. She was surprised she had lived after so many.

"_So, Hinata, how old are you?"_

…

"_You're such a cute little girl, aren't you?"_

…

"…_Won't you say anything? Why won't she speak?"_

"_Hinata…is just shy. She's had a very rough time…"_

"_Oh…dear, well, we're not sure if we can accommodate for her, well, needs. We were hoping for someone…bright. Cheerful. Oh, that little boy!"_

Then they would look closer, and recoil from the sadness in her eyes.

They would smile, politely, uncomfortably, and Hinata would watch them select an uglier, happier child.

She should've learned then, but finally the day had come. Of course she was nervous, but above all, she had been _hopeful_. Perhaps she could learn to adjust, she thought. Perhaps this would be her chance to change.

From across the room, Sakura saw her, saw through her, pretending to see nothing. Hinata would've believed her, if it hadn't been for the severed pencil halves in her hand.

And this morning, she had been by her locker like every other day since.

Since he had become her keeper.

When had it been established? That he would wait for her there?

Never. That's when.

…

…Why was that so hard to accept?

That was it. Somewhere in between her feeble mind, she had developed a crutch. Now with it gone…would she stumble and fall? Again?

How could she let this happen? Again! She should have known. She-

-flinched as something collided with the back of her head. Hinata bent over to pick up…a pencil? She picked it up, and sat back up-

-to find herself face to face with a boy. He had tousled, bed-head-esque hair. It was messy, beautifully so, and it hung into his eyes. It was bold, it was jagged, it was so…boyish. It was…

Sasuke.

With an air of mild annoyance about him, Hinata was struck with a revolution – she was hit with clarity, so much in the fashion of the cold refrigerator air. Perhaps, possibly, quite apparently:

He had been there. Waiting.

And she hadn't seen him.

Sasuke, he seemed…different. Upon close inspection, she was shocked to discover that his hairstyle wasn't very different – it was simply shorter. Manlier.

As he stood before her, crouched so they were eyelevel, she felt a slightly nauseating stir. It was something – something cold, and it left her with clarity.

This time, refrigerator door in hand, she had happened upon something new inside. As the cold air hit her face, she felt the light pour into the hollows of her face.

_He had waited._

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Walking in the hallways:

It was a tunnel. A long, dark tunnel. The kind where the distance transcends reason, thought, _probability_. Where the light at the end is but a mere speck, barely thought out in conception.

The light…she had grown to fear this light.

And she walked with slow steps, he beside her. She should have rushed. Should have ran, from the way they _stared_.

They stared like they had the right to. That they had to right to know her truths, without knowing her at all.

Maybe she was surrendering – take me now, vultures, feed upon the remnants of my humanity.

Yet she felt another stare. Only it was entirely different, in that he stared as if he wanted the right to know, so he could discover the truths.

..Did it make all the difference?

Still, they reached the light at the end – the end of the cave.

The stare that sought to know her – it looked her way, waiting, before pushing open the door.

To think it was only a day ago – she was in this very building, but the circumstances were oh so different.

As he led her to a table, far off to the corner and away from the spotlight, he envied her.

It was good, though. At least she didn't have to fear the awful things being said of her. She didn't have to stand by as her ears bled from they mortal wounds inflicted upon them. Now, if only someone would be so kind as to come and blind her.

Then she would really be safe.

From them, their stares, and their evil eyes.

Slowly, she sat down, and stared at her tray. And it stared happily back without saying a word, which was just what she wanted. But she could still feel it, that _stare_. And it looked at her with confusion, so she could stare no more.

Her pale hand encased the apple, and she brought it closer to her peachy lips, shyly taking a nibble out of it.

_A small, dark-haired child reached into her backpack, pulling out a tiny red apple, even smaller than her bite-sized fist. _

_Delighted, the child clapped her hands before her, holding the bright red fruit theatrically before her. She closed her eyes and tilted her head, placing her free hand to her heart. Lowering her voice many octaves, she voiced, "Flower of this purple dye, Hit with Cupid's archery, Sink in apple of his eye."__(1)_

_Clearly, the action in itself was entirely spontaneous, and she had not intended for it to be audible. If fact, she had not intended to do it at all! Naturally, the girl had a very quiet voice. So quiet, in fact, that only one individual had heard her._

_She placed the apple back into her bag, taking out her notebook (her original reason for opening her bag). As she flipped through the pages, a smile still etched onto her round face, she squirmed uncomfortably, furrowing her brows_

_As she turned her head to the left, her suspicions were confirmed as the smile deteriorated and was replaced with the flush of shame and embarrassment._

_A young boy stared at with a look of perpetual confusion and bafflement. His hand still grasped the pen, taking notes with a life of its own, but his face did not leave hers. She tried to think of anything to excuse her sudden outburst, but opted instead to cover her cheeks, trying to conceal the growing flames within them. Decidedly ignoring his presence, she buried herself into her notebook, scribbling away about stocks, taxes, and income revenue._

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

She took one final bite, letting the fruitless core drop onto her tray. He stared, he stared, but she could not seem to meet his gaze. Forced to settle for the smooth top of her forehead, he listened to her silence and could not seem to hear an answer.

"…_Do you see me, Hinata?"_

"…_Do you see me now?"_

"…'_Cause I see you."_

"_Hyuga Hinata."_

.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

1. This is a quote from Shakespeares play: _A Midsummer Night's Dream_.

How was that for toning down? Let me know!


	12. Chapter 12

Hello all  Currently, I am burning with fever. So, I will spare you all of my jibba jabba and get on with the story. Enjoy !

**Chapter 12 – She loved to act.**

_Flashback_  
"_Thoughts"_

_She was beautiful, god she was beautiful._

Even now, under…whatever the hell life was heaping on her. She was limping, knees buckled, heart pumping.

Still she stood standing, salvaging whatever was left of her. And that in itself, was marvelous.

Naruto lifted his head, and silently acknowledged the new presence. With a slight nod of his head, he resumed his distant wanderings. Sighing, he took a deep drag, watching the wisps of smoke spiral into the air, dispersing.

What was a life, but a brief puff of smoke? Gone for once, and never to return?

"Oy, teme, want a smoke?"

The silent boy didn't budge. You'd have thought he was a statue, except for the slightest flicker of his eyes. He obliged to the uncharacteristically solemn blond, and took the offered death stick. Using his signature fan-emblazed heirloom lighter, he lit the end until it charred, and snapped it shut.

"Since when does the dobe smoke?"

It had been quite a while.

But that's not to say things had changed.

Naruto laughed, a hoarse, wry laugh the lacked its trademark grin, its gleeful spark. "Did you hear anything about Sakura yet?" It was the million dollar question that everyone asked, yet nobody could answer.

Sasuke shrugged, watching the smoke billow upwards, reaching for the sky yet dying every time in a fruitless pursuit. Last he had heard, she was seeing a big-shot shrink, which made sense since she was AWOL for the past two days. Honestly, he didn't give a rat's ass about her whereabouts. As always, Haruno Sakura was a migraine waiting to happen.

And when it did, it was difficult for even someone like Naruto to hold onto her redeeming qualities. There were her beautiful green eyes, but now they just looked like emerald daggers. There was her pretty face, but now it was just contorted and disturbed. Truly sad, indeed.

"Don't know." _"Don't care_."

"She hasn't been to school…she won't pick up her phone." Then again, when had she bothered to? For his calls, anyway.

…How had she fallen so hard, so fast?

And over…

It hurt too much to say it.

Too much hurt for the orphan boy, as they called him. Even after adoption from his Heffner-esque guardian, he couldn't seem to shed the scared, lonely, empty-handed orphan boy that he saw every morning in the mirror.

Maybe he didn't want to. Maybe he needed to hold onto him, just to know he was still who he thought he was.

And maybe that's why Sakura never noticed him. Not beside Uchiha Sasuke, sole heir to the massive Uchiha inheritance. Naruto had acquired wealth, but Sasuke had been born into wealth. It was different, that much was certain.

Even now, with the doe-eyed snow-skinned fairy of sorts, he was irresistible.

Often he wondered what the appeal of him was, but he was only fooling himself. Now more than ever, donning his edgy new hair, Sasuke looked like a man, surrounded by a sea of gangly boys.

Was it pain, the suffering, that made him age so?

It made sense. After all, perhaps it was the very same pain that made _her_ so ethereal. Her youthful features were deceptive, for she had the air of a woman. The eyes of a woman. The limp of a woman who had had her share of pain. And then some.

Sasuke, the way he stared. Watched. Frowned. He knew.

"_You're just like me, another ghost from her past_. _Haunting her already sleepless nights._"

"I remember her." The reclusive child that everyone admired, but nobody could break. Nobody could reach – you far off, distant beauty.

How badly he wanted to tell her, _"I see you now. I saw you then. I remember you still." _But it would only do more damage, and she was barely standing, clinging onto the scraps that remained.

How little she had changed since those days at the orphanage. She was beautiful then, too, but maybe more so now. Beauty aside, she had hardly changed.

Still that fragile sophistication that begged to be torn down.

…But what lied beneath it?

All he saw was a broken girl.

A broken girl whom nobody cared for.

And it broke his heart.

Sasuke snubbed the end of his wilted cigarette against the brick wall before pushing himself off of it.

"I do too."

Naruto seemed to perk at this, and lifted his gaze to meet Sasuke's. "Yeah? Tell me…"

And he knew the question that would fall from his mouth. So he already had an answer before those words were born to earth. It was easy, after all.

"Was she always so…broken?" _Sad? Hurt? Detached?_

He didn't have to think to answer. It was an answer, seemingly morose, but essentially uplifting. And he knew by the tell tale smile on the blonde's face that he, too, understood what hope lied in the paradoxically depressing response.

"No."

Because "no" meant there was hope. Once a reality, forever thereafter a possibility. It was true; she had smiled. He knew she had once smiled.

Thus, there'd be the day.

When Hinata, just Hinata (as he had known her, as was her name when he had met her so long ago), would smile once again.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"She…loved Shakespeare."

"What? That ugly guy with long hair?"

Sasuke sighed. It had been a long time, and he almost forgot how dumb Naruto was.

"I mean, she loved to act."

Naruto scratched his head. "Hinata? I…can't really picture that. I mean, she doesn't even talk. I think you need to talk to act."

The dark-haired boy shrugged, staring off into the walls. "It wasn't always like that."

"Wha?? I mean, you, then, why do you follow her around?"

"I don't _follow_ her around. I'm her guide. Because she's deaf."

This surprised Naruto again, as his eyes further opened. "You mean…"

"Tsunade didn't metion anything about her being mute."

Naruto shook his head. "I wonder…"

"Me too."

There was a spark in Naruto's eyes, a question behind him that he had always sought the answer to. "Tell me, Sasuke. What was she like? I mean, all I've ever known her as is this cold, shaken girl. She never talked. She would…" at this Naruto paused, and there was an internal uproar within him.

Sasuke inched closer, telling him to go on.

"She would…look at me. I, I never said anything to her. And she didn't, either. I thought it was nothing. But sometimes…sometimes I thought I could feel someone watching me. But I thought, hey, who'd take the second to look at me?"

It was unsettling – this feeling that lingered on Sasuke. Why had he thought that she was his toy? His alone to remember?

"And when Jiraiya came nine years ago, I felt it again. So I looked around…and there she was. In a corner, watching me. Like she always had been, I think. And as I walked out of that orphanage for the last time, something happened to her face. It…crumpled…" Naruto fisted his hands, staring at them for a long time.

"…How did she get like this?"

Sasuke was wondering exactly the same thing. If only he knew…then he could find a way.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Far away. She felt so far away from it all. The world, that is.

Even in that big, impersonal house, she felt stifled. Suffocated. Knowing that_ she_ was just a wall away…it made all the difference.

To know that fear was only a wall away. Between these paper thin walls was a seed, planted with the cruel intent to do away with her. How long before it consumed her, engulfed her, and did away with her altogether?

All the unrest, the fear, the vulnerability-

It led her to here.

It was a beach. There was, unfortunately, nothing overtly or even remotely romantic about it. The sun did not set just so, basking in the shades of purple and pink. The dolphins did not gather; the waves did not sing songs. They simply crashed against the sands of here and now, the way real beaches do.

Running her fingers through the nervous strings, she closed her eyes. It always let her visualize the music.

Silently, her heart cried out.

Hear me.

Open me.

Don't be afraid…

But for now, this was the best she could do, sharing herself to the wind in a language she hoped someone out there would understand.

The odds were slim, but it was all she could trust herself to do.

Words were so dangerous….they had no idea. It hurt too much to hold so much power, with such little caution. It was simply too much. So she didn't.

She continued to play, this wordless melody that said all that was needed.

Pain.

Grief.

Guilt?

That was really all that was needed. Those universal sufferings of the feeble human heart. One the oceans would abide to, bow to, succumb to. So deeply she strum, burying the blue guitar against her so she could feel its hums. So deeply that she was not alarmed as she felt an unexpected warmth envelop her from behind.

It's mercy, she thought. Mercy's angel, sent to pardon me from my sins. Sent to comfort me, and shield me from all that I've done. Her psychological embodiment of her need for forgiveness. This was it.

But she felt a different rhythm echo into her heart. Crawling up her spine, through the fences of her rib cage, into the battered sanctuary that was her heart.

It was there. She felt it contradict her solemn requiem, uplifting her past her earthly confines.

She didn't have to look behind to know who her mercy was, but she did anyway.

She did it because she needed to know it was him – needed to be sure of this one thing, just this one thing, if nothing else.

And there he was, back to back with her, softly leaning into her while curiously taking the force of their weights upon him. That scraggly head of hair, dipping rhythmically to trembles of his melody.

It was then that she knew for certain.

He could understand. This language that was meant for no one, but that he had made his own.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

So simple, it seemed, to the many who passed by.

A couple in love.

Members of a band.

Two fellow starving artists.

Or even, simply friends with guitars.

But it was so much more.

If one would only look close enough, they'd see how her eyes were closed in earnest, as they searched for the rhythm lingering up her spine.

How, ever so subtley, softly, she leaned against her wall, knowing it would stay there. Even under her weight – the weight of all she held.

The way his jacket was spread open from the draft, like the wings of a bird at flight. And how they enveloped her, protected her from the cold. The dangers of the hearing, speaking world.

Her own guardian bird. His own damaged fledgling.

Yes, it was beautiful music. A soft, emotive electric with the perfect undertunes of bass. To them, those faceless passerbys, it was just beautiful music. Two people, somehow associated, that were making beautiful music.

But how, oh how, did they manage?

With one who cannot hear, and another frozen in time? A standstill rebellion against the truth that chases growth?

It was a simple miracle. That only they could see.

At least, they were beginning to.

That, entirely of itself, was a miracle in its own.

"You're…you really." Sigh. "You got really beautiful." Strum, his guitar, his heart, his heart. "If only your changes had stopped there."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

In Hinatopia, there would be no words. People would smile with their eyes, speak with their hands, love with their hearts.

There would be no need for superficial words. No vapid remarks, jokes without substance. Just pure, sincere hearts.

That way, we'd all be safe.

There would be animals; animals couldn't talk. And Hinata truly did love animals. They were nature, they were harmless. Yes, definitely animals.

And…and…people would just…understand each other. They would know what to do in every situation.

What to do when you can't stand being in your skin.

When you can't quite forgive yourself.

When you think you're just unlovable.

What to do when hope seems lost

What to do about the boy against your back; the thrumming of your guitars that beats in sync with your racing heart.

If only she knew, Sasuke, if only she knew.

No one would ever be confused, or self-conscious. Everyone would be honest; what's a lie? Nobody would know.

No, she would not lie to herself, that her face had reddened ever so softly. That she couldn't sense the winds of change.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Planning on co-writing a story with the always awesome Archee-chan  I will let you guys know more as we progress! Wish us luck!


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13 – Little steps**

Hinata looked up at the ceiling, feeling an array of helplessness. Of waste.

What had she done all day?

Had she drifted in and out of sleep? Wrapped her hair around her fingers, trying to find a safe hold?

She wondered.

And thought.

Yet could not remember.

What she did remember is that today is Thanksgiving. It was odd, this feeling of 'free time.' Her whole day consisted of school, then homework. Even at the orphanage, her whole day had consisted with schooling, research, reading. And even before that-

Now what was she to do?

What was Thanksgiving? All she could come up with was a mental picture of a turkey. Was that all there was to it? She didn't know.

Vaguely, she could smell the scent of something burning. The smell eventually became so bad that Hinata felt scandalized. Who would cook something in such mockery?

Hinata followed the scent and blinked, finding herself suddenly in the grand Haruno kitchen. There were gray puffs of smoke floating towards the ceiling, and she traced the source of it to the oven, where Mrs. Haruno's coral chignon bun was hovering over. She stood up, wiping her hands on her now-soiled satin apron.

"Well that's another ruined 20 pounds of turkey." She turned her head, jumping a little when she saw Hinata curling her lip at the charred remains of the enormous bird. "The husband position is taken: no mocking my cooking." She cocked her head, looking at Hinata with fatigue. "I don't suppose you know anything about cooking?"

Hinata blinked as the butler pushed a huge, raw turkey into her face. She stared at Mrs. Haruno with skepticism, but at the older woman's urging she shyly picked up the bird, buckling under its weight.

She took the turkey to the sink, cleaning it of its insides, the "dirties" no one wanted.

And wondered why no one could do the same to her.

Hinata went about the kitchen with a silent assertion that had even Mrs. Haruno surprised. She hovered about Hinata with jerky movements, and Hinata could not help but be immersed in sadness.

Sadness that the circumstances were so. Sadness that Mrs. Haruno's daughter could not be here, cooking a meal with her mother as good daughters do. But, sadly, her daughter was miles away in the recesses of her head, where no one could hope to reach her now.

And Hinata's mother was, well.

And so they were left with each other. Neither each other's first choice.

Looking at Mrs. Haruno, you could hardly call her the perfect mother.

Looking at herself, her own imperfection, she could not help but feel that the situation could not be more fitting.

Like in a way, they deserved each other.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

When Hinata came downstairs for dinner, she was more than surprised to find Sakura seated at the table. It was the first in many days.

She had grown even thinner, and to Hinata she seemed like a hazy, distant ghost, haunting her with her jaded eyes.

She was beautiful, of course, in a red velvet dress that seemed to sag off of her too-narrow shoulders. Still, there was the unmistakable look of dread that shadowed her perfect features.

Hinata turned away; for courtesy, if nothing else. And she far from wanted her step-sister's attention. It was certainly with a deep breath that Hinata dove into this waiting disaster. Now the only question was:

How long could she hold her breath?

The table was beautifully decorated, but Hinata felt none of the joy or warmth that it was supposed to inspire. She felt like those wax statues at a museum, posing for the world in this make-believe holiday setting.

Mr. and Mrs. Haruno took their places at the table, looking as extravagant as always, and they called for the first course to be served. It was a warm cornbread scone that was served with a cranberry glaze. The first bite was delicious, but with every bite Hinata could feel Sakura's eyes scratch deeper and deeper into her innards. By the time the turkey was served, Hinata could have sworn that it was her, up on that platter without a head.

As Mr. Haruno carved the turkey, he remarked on how beautifully the bird was cooked. Mrs. Haruno beamed, but added that Hinata had helped as a last-minute foot note.

Not that Hinata minded, as she was occupied trying to look anywhere except directly ahead of her.

After they had had their dessert of spiced pumpkin pie, Mr. Haruno clapped his large hands to get his family's attention. Sighing, he thumped the table with his fist, causing Hinata to look up from her plate with a start.

"Well, it's been a nice couple of months since you moved here, Hinata" he said with exaggerated slowness. "We thought it'd be nice if everyone could go around and say some things they're thankful for. Why don't you start dear?"

"Oh, but I'm not ready yet. Come back to me" she barked at her husband.

"Okay, looks like I'll start. I am thankful for my lovely wife, my great business, and my beautiful daughter. Excse me, daughters." He gave Hinata a little wink, to which she decided that Mr. Haruno was not so bad, once given time. He meant well – at least, she suspected.

"Okay I have one! I'm thankful for my flourishing clothing line!" She clapped her hands, clearly delighted with her splendid accomplishment, and looked next to her daughter.

Up to this point, Sakura had not uttered a single word. She had scarcely looked up from her plate, except once to glare at the waiter until he refilled her glass wine.

"Well, sweet heart?"

"Come on, honey. I'm sure there's something you're thankful for."

And like in Hinata's nightmares, those acid green eyes snapped up from the table and bore in her soul, trying to suck the goodness out of it.

"What am I thankful for?"

She continued to pierce her eyes into Hinata, with every drop of hate she could muster.

"What am I thankful for! I'm…I'm thankful for my good looks! My great hair! My awesome friends. My family. My perfect figure!" There was an edge to her voice, a too-cheerful confidence that served to convince herself more than anything. "My good grades! My squad! My perfect, fabulous life!"

Her father gave her an uneasy grin, while her mother beamed. "There you go sweet heart, I told you it wasn't that difficult. Now…"

They all turned to look at Hinata, finding her spot long empty.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

It was cold inside, but Hinata didn't dare go back in that house. For all she knew, they were huddled in front of the door, waiting for her to give her answers.

She wrapped her thin cashmere cardigan tighter to her body, wondering why fashion had to come at the price of comfort. What purpose could this little cardigan provide, if it could not provide her with a little bit of warmth? Her hands were also growing numb from the biting cold. If only she had a hand to hold.

A little ahead of her was a young girl holding onto an older woman's hand. Her mother. Hinata walked briskly to catch up to them, and walked just close enough to dispel suspicions. Close enough that one could mistake them as a group. But far enough to keep them from being alerted by her presence.

With each step, she convinced herself that this was hers; _they_ were hers. This woman and her daughter – her mother and her sister. With their long dark hair and her own raven locks, it was an easy mistake.

What was she thankful for? She would've been perfectly thankful for just a family of her own.

As she continued ghosting the woman and her daughter, Hinata felt like a stranger. To them, the world, herself. Who was she? And what would they think, this woman and girl, if only they turned around and spotted her with that dismal darkness sketched onto her face?

They needn't look. They were happy, just on their own.

In her thoughts, she had stopped, and now the two were nowhere in sight. Hinata rubbed her frozen cheek, and found she did not no where she was. But that was hardly new. She continued off in any direction, because that was what she did – she walked, not knowing where the next step would take her.

Like autopilot, her foots seemed to have adopted a mind of their own. In silent resistance, she took agonizingly slow steps. But in any case, her feet took her where they wished. She had no say, no, none at all.

And it was in this way that she found herself in a place she didn't belonged to. A place she had never belonged to. Now more than ever, it left a biting sting in the pit of her stomach:

The business district.

After all, she was never too far from the place it had all started.

Walking with ghostlike steps in this place full of faces that were empty strangers, she could not help but face eastward. With each turn, each stride, each moment, she felt her blood bubble with righteous indignation. This place, this damned place, it was all the blame. And when she began to fear where her feet would take her, she knew that once she rounded this corner, it would come into view –

The famous Hyuga Tower.

Seconds before she rounded it, she felt something brush against her cheek – was it a feather? From an angel or a bird?

She turned, finding the first to be more accurate. A feather, indeed, as a stray strand of his raven hair brushed against her cheeks, as he was standing very close, stooped down to be her level.

Perhaps he did it to make certain it was her. Because she was doing the same.

"What are you doing here?"

She hadn't a clue. But what she did know?

He'd saved her.

He'd saved her from going back there. He gave her a reason to stop. Autopilot gone. And, completely of her own free will, she followed him as he led her away from the place that plagued her so.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

He turned so she could see him, and said "I didn't expect you here." And he really didn't. After all, it's not many people who were willing to cramp themselves in the office on Thanksgiving Day. That, and she surely had no business being here.

She merely nodded, staring off into….anywhere, to avoid his eyes. His eyes that knew too much. But this singular action allowed him a better glimpse of her cheek, red and raw from the cold November winds.

"You're a long ways from where you live…and I'm going to take a wild guess and say you walked?"

As she had been looking off in the distance, she hadn't seen his words, and was doubly surprised as he grabbed her by the wrist and led her to a bench. And, somewhat awkwardly, he took off his coat and threw it onto. Hinata was amazed by how he thin he was – more from fatigue than anything. Under his paper-thin skin, his muscles threatened to burst from their flimsy layer. The warmth immediately coursed through her body and she closed her eyes, drawing it closer to her body and she reveled in the familiar scent of his natural musk – no man-made synthetics could produce something like this.

During this, he stared at her with a strange attraction, how her lashes fanned across her high cheeks as her eyes closed. How doll-like she looked in his too-big coat, how she wrapped it around her like a cocoon. And he couldn't help but notice how defensive she looked, wrapped away in layers of detachment. How faraway she seemed.

And how odd they must have looked, she bundled up as he stared fixedly. As the evening sky melted, leaving a popsicle puddle of purple across the sky, he knew even his coat was no match for the draft.

He took hold of her small wrist, and her eyes snapped open at the interruption. "I'll take you home. My car's right over there."

She nodded, but seemed to register his words as her fingers clawed at his in protest. Clearly taken aback by her sudden aggression, he tugged harder, for lack of knowing what else he could do. They struggled, and though he was clearly stronger, what threw him off the most was the desperation in her eyes. They were wild, shining with a sheen of panic, and he was at a loss of what to do.

"You need to go home."

When she stopped to look around, she saw his shiny black Evo, and felt that drowning sensation all over again. The worst part?

She knew he was right. She knew it. And still she felt all that was left of her – what little dignity she had left, overflow. She was overflowing, as she felt herself drown beneath the depths of her guilt – of her shame. There was no avoiding it, and it stared at her from the sidewalk that was both too close and too far.

Her eyes flooded with tears he did not understand, and he felt it was everything that explained why she wouldn't speak, why her diamond eyes had dimmed to coals.

That vague concept of time seemed to escape him, and he neither knew nor cared how long they stood there, both immersed in perpetual states of anguish. And when it happened, he hardly knew if he imagined it or not, for it was barely audible and too unexpected to comprehend.

"I'm sorry."

It was so silent, a ghost whisper lost in the sounds of the city, and he knew nothing of what it meant, who it was addressed to, why she said it. But he took it – he took it as acceptance. And with that he steered her, this broken shell of a girl, to the thing that she so deeply feared. She didn't protest as he led her into the car, for their was nothing left in her to protest. As soon as she entered the car, she shook with the same uncertainties and fears of a newborn animal.

Had he done right? Had he done wrong? A million insecurities crawled in his mind as they headed down this midnight highway, going where they needed.

She cried, she cried, and he thought he had done wrong, but her small hand resting against his convinced him otherwise.

So he took it, her small trembling hand, and closed his own around it so she wouldn't go away. He held it until the shaking softened to a faint pitter patter, and still he held on to this soft hand, so vulnerable like a child's. So that she'd stay here, in this clarity of mind, and stay away from the darkness in her mind.

Because, sometimes, you need to break to know you're still living. And if someone should come to mend you…you'd know you're not alone.


	14. Chapter 14

Hi all :D It seems like a lot of you are starting to piece together the story, which is great xD Some of you are pretty close, and I'm sure it's all just a matter of time before all of you piece together Hinata and Sasuke's little story  I'm a little down that reviews have plummeted, but what can you do :) Those of you that do make it all worth it Thank you guys, I truly appreciate each of you Enjoy!

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

**Chapter 14 – The Hand That Let Me Go**

It was dark outside, but darker in here – the inner working of a Haruno Sakura's bedraggled mind. Heaving a sigh out of the innermost pit of her stomach, she reached into her old toy box, dug beneath the various bunnies and kittens, and produced a shiny red bottle: Strawberry Hill. Personally, she thought it tasted like rubbing alcohol with a hint of salt and strawberries. But it was all the clerk was willing to sell her with her fake i.d.

Yanking out the cork, she tipped her head back and let the fiery contents seep into her body. She could feel it swim straight to her head, where it danced with her brain and created all sorts of crazy thoughts.

Sighing, yet again, she opened her window and leaned over the edge, releasing a small hiccup, almost giggling for reasons unknown. She drank, she drank, until she felt a low humming in her head. Delighted, she multiplied her intake until her brain was numb from any thoughts that delved past breathing.

All attempts, however, at numbing herself were shut off as she caught wind of something just outside of her window. She knew that car – that shiny black Evo. She had dreamed of sitting in the car, evening going so far as following that car. There was a prickle of joy that rippled through her; that is, until she wondered why his car would be in front of her house.

Now, Sakura was no fool. Hopeful, irrational, obsessive, but not a fool. There was no reason for Uchiha Sasuke and his shiny black car to be outside of her house. She leaned halfway out of her window, which was most definitely a health hazard considering that her room was on the second floor. Still she lunged her body out the window, peering into the car.

Her pleasant half-buzzed drunkenness melted away in an oncoming storm. She felt the bubbly carelessness melt away and once again she was sharp, in a perpetual state of clarity and detest.

Perhaps she had had too much too drink, and her nightmares were materializing before her eyes. Perhaps it was someone else – a common, faceless whore. That, even, was preferably to her current presumptions. However, as Sasuke came out of the car and opened the door for a black-haired sister of hers, Sakura melted away into superman.

Superman could fly – and she did. Sakura tumbled out of the window, plummeting into bushes that did little to cushion her fall. Ignoring the throbbing of her back, she crawled upwards like the resurrected dead, making her way towards them.

He held out his hand; she blushed, taking it. She made to take off her too large coat, and Sakura watched with utter scorn as he silenced her movements with his hands, shaking his head.

But all of this was nothing, until this very moment, where all movement had stopped. Except for the crunching of her deranged curiosity, the world and all around them stopped.

Time was never invented; speech? Obsolete. They simple stared at each other, open-mouthed, speaking words to each other without moving their lips. She broke the gaze to hide a stray tear – he wiped it, making no indication of moving his hand from where it loosely cupped her face. And the gaze was maintained. They stared, that was all, but there was much in that single stare that Sakura felt herself rise from her pain.

She crunched in a few places, but disregarded her own body as she stalked towards them. Still they had not noticed her, even as she was only an arm's length away. And for once, Sakura felt the pain of being invisible.

Pain she was wholly unaccustomed to. Without a spare thought she slumped in between them, shattering their broken intimacy. She seized Sasuke's arms with a quiet desperation, limping from the pain that had now caught up with her from her descent into rapture.

Hinata disappeared to her, but she could clearly see the detachment in Sasuke's eyes. She shook him, but he was stone. He stared at her with such blatant indifference that she felt a broken cry escape from her lips. Sakura parted her lips to speak, but the words died in stillbirth as she collapsed onto Sasuke.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Mr. Haruno answered the doorbell with mild annoyance to find something he was entirely unprepared for.

Uchiha Sasuke stood on his doorstep:

One daughter slung carelessly against his arm, and the other, obscured by the boy's tall stature. But he could clearly see her hand, held protectively in Sasuke's.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Eyes wide open, but mind wide shut-

She was awake.

"_Damn."_

Maybe it would have been better if it would've stayed dark forever. She wouldn't have had to wake up now, and see them see her with eyes that only judged.

"_I'm fine_."

"Sakura, what happened?"

She turned away from them, staring at the blank hospitals walls, that had become her life. Nothing. What did she have now?

They all thought she was crazy. They all thought she needed help.

"_I'm just fine."_

"Dr.?"

"She's going to be just fine, Mrs. Haruno. Other than a sprained ankle, she's perfectly fine." He shook his head, as if nothing made sense. "Frankly, I'm surprised that's all she sustained."

Their voices were like a roaring in her ears. She whined, clamping her hands over her ears. All eyes turned to face her, and she blinked away the bright lights from her puffy, swollen lids.

"Hear that? I'm fine! Now leave."

Before Mrs. Haruno could say anything, Mr. Haruno took her shoulders and pushed her out the door. Sighing, the rest all followed suit. Temari groaned. "Four hours I have been back in Konoha, and now you're practically kicking me out the door!"

Once their trampling had trickled to white noise, Sakura felt the voices, the questions swarm into her head, and she almost regretted their absence. Still, it was a good thing they left. They would ask too many questions; right now, they were far too dangerous for her to handle.

…Had she really done it?

It was as if someone had taken her memory, rewinded, and recorded over that incident. Had she really jumped?

If only it had been higher-

Fuck! Fuck! Sakura shoved her head underneath her pillow, jamming it into her ears. Anything to silence that overbearing silence.

She paused, panting – she really was that drained. And over the sound of her hummingbird heart, she heard footsteps. Slow, heavy, footsteps. And they felt as though they were crushing her own body. She would've yelled at them to go away – go away and disappear but the warmth on her shoulder quickly silenced her. The warmth flooded into her shoulder, seeping into her every fiber. Curious, she did not protest as the pillow was ripped from her, and felt an indescribable weight collapse onto her at the bright blue eyes that met her.

"…Hey?" He scratched the back of his head, acknowledging the ensuing awkwardness. It had, after all, been nearly a week since they had even had visual confirmation of each other.

"So uh…pretty crazy thing you did there…heh, heh…"

…No one ever said Uzumaki Naruto had choice words.

"I mean, jumping out of windows…"

…Where was a hose when you needed one? Because he was just adding fuel to the fire.

"And, and accusing Hinata of being lesbian. I mean, really, no one really bought that. Especially, with Sasuke-"

"Who are you to say his name! Don't say Sasuke-kun's name!" Sakura had snapped up in the heat of the moment, and was now wincing as she hissed, clutching her ankle. She has curled up in pain, but felt herself unraveling at the warmth. Though his hand were large and blistered, he peeled her fingers off of her anger with alarming gentleness, and picked up her leg by the calf with his thumb and index finger. Naruto grabbed a pillow and settled her leg onto it with an ease that contradicted his clumsy nature.

"Does it hurt?"

Numbly, she nodded wordlessly.

He began fluffing her pillow, and stopped. She blinked, finding his face alarmingly close. Uncomfortably close. His hand rested on her shoulder, but he didn't seem to notice.

"W-What?" The brightness of his eyes was blinding her, but they had her locked – she could not so much as blink.

"Sakura."

Sighing, he shook his head. "Where'd you put Sakura?"

He got up and made to leave; to her horror, it filled her with more panic than she was comfortable acknowledging.

"W-What do you mean!"

Naruto paused in the doorway, and seemed to weigh some things over before turning around, sighing as he held his face in his hands. "Sakura. When, uh…when you're all better, we'll talk."

"No, tell me what you mean!"

"You're not well. Your leg. Um, your head..and-"

"I will never be okay!" she sobbed, as the walls around her composure cracked, like the cracking of her defeated voice. Naruto clamped his mouth shut, and sighed with all the tiredness in the world.

"Why?"

"Because…" He raised his brows, urging her to explain. She groaned in frustration, throwing down her pillow and simultaneously screaming in pain. "Because I can't stand the way everyone is babying her!

Naruto's ocean blue eyes froze into ice – steel ice, and he turned away from Sakura. She tried to sit up, craning to see his face. Anything to look at, other than his back.

After all, Naruto was the last person she expected to turn their back on her. It left a bitter stain in her mouth, and swallowing her pride she slowly lifted her hand, reaching for his arm. In the very last moment before she could reach him, his hand wordlessly snatched her, holding it suspended in midair.

"All my life…all my life Sakura. I spent all my life being an orphan. What was my name? Didn't matter. Because I was an orphan. That's me. No no no, don't feel sad for me. That's not why I'm saying this."

"_Look at me, just look!"_ she pleaded, but he was closed to her mind controls.

She heard the tears in his eyes, and the hand that still strangled hers shook with the effort to retain composure. "I had a talk with Sasuke. And, I thought I had it tough. I did. But Jiraiya adopted me, and I've had him ever since. Don't say she's being babied. She has never been babied over, and she's been alone since she was four. Four, Sakura. What were you doing when you were four? Wearing pink Prada diapers?"

Why was he doing this to her? Why couldn't he just moon over her like he always did?

"Why can't you just, why do you have to, why-"

"Can't I listen to you? Praise you? Tell you everything in the world is at your beck and call?"

Softly, he gave her hand a little stroke, before letting it fall. Sakura had the vague sensation of plummeting down from the top of the highest building, watching his face grow smaller and smaller is it looked down at her.

"Because that's what did this to you."

That's what destroyed you.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Honestly, at this point I don't know what will become of our Naruto and Sakura. I really hadn't planned for anything to happen between them, so I'll just have to let my fingers do their thing, and see where things go from there. Thanks everyone for reading, and I think we are at least halfway through this!


	15. Chapter 15

Hello everyone! I know I haven't updated in a while, so here I am! I was really planning on putting it off a bit longer, but what the hay – it's my birthday tomorrow, so I thought I should return everyone's generosity by being generous myself :D So I hope all of you enjoy it !

**Chapter 15 – Shattered Reflection**

Had she not been so distraught, Hinata might've felt deathly uncomfortable at the way that a certain gentleman was gazing at her. But, as circumstance would have it, she was. And she was far too distressed to concern herself with the way that his eyes never once strayed from her.

As she silently pondered on the day, its happenings, and how it had gone in every conceivable emotional direction, she did not so much as bat an eyelash when she felt the weight of his body disturb the bench on which she sat.

He peered at her sideways, and looked at her carefully. She was currently staring off into nothingness, and had he not taken painstaking attention to her, he would've missed the permanent etch between her eyebrows. The subtle down-turned lines that framed the corners of her lips. It was a permanent expression that had found refuge on her face; it had yet to leave. And it was confusion.

A sad, sad doll left behind in the lost-and-found. Forgotten.

And then he realized. Maybe his sister wasn't so crazy after all.

Maybe Hyuga Hinata was more than a spoiled heiress.

Maybe Hyuga Hinata was not a pretender.

She was genuinely lost.

"You might have heard of me. I'm Gaara."

He paused, doubting a response. His presumption was correct, as a long stretch of silence enveloped them.

"Temari's brother."

She hadn't so much as shown any indication of acknowledging his presence. He was not even a fly she bothered to brush off of her arm.

Huh.

He leaned in closer, until he was a hair's breath away from her ear. It was like injecting the syringe into his arm; he was all about testing his limits.

"I've tried lots of methods. That's why they put me away. That's why everyone has a legit excuse to hate me, and now they don't even have to pretend to care. No one blames them." Inching closer, he closed his eyes as he greedily consumed her scent of delicate, European flowers.

"Gas, wrists, air bubbles, head-in-oven, pills, booze. You name it, and I've tried it." She didn't move at all, which was just fine with him. As her scent of flowers continued to tint his world pink, he imagined her in a field. No, a forest. Beneath a weeping willow, sitting, her billowy white dress spread about the roots like a fairy. A princess, a sprite. All things good and wonderful. All in her sweet English flowers.

"But then, I always stopped myself before it reached fatality. I gassed myself until I saw patterns. I slit my wrists until the blood pulsated. I tried injecting air bubbles into my blood, until I just pussied out. I stuck my head in the oven, until I grew dizzy. You want to know why, Princess?"

He took her silence for consent, brushing her hair away from her long queenly neck. "Because then they'd just say 'I told you so.' They'd probably engrave it on my tomb, for all the wanderers to see. And I couldn't allow that. If I'm gonna be a fuck up, I'll do it in my own respects."

So smooth, her long, milky neck. As he ran his fingertip along it, from chin to nape, he felt a short spasm that brought a grin to his face. "_A pulse! Dr., Dr., the patient is has responded!"_

"What I'm trying to say is...don't ever do anything because the world tells you to. You wanna pop a few pills, that's fine by me. But spare yourself from 'I told you so.' Because then what do you have?"

Sighing, the light draft from an oncoming gurney blew a few wispy strands onto her face, framing it like an intimate touch. He stared at her profile for a long, and opened his mouth to speak when a slight cough disrupted his perceptions.

The singular sound had startled him, and he found that he had grown quite accustomed to the silence of her world. Without turning his head away from her, his jaunty green eyes filtered upwards to see a tall, fairly handsome boy.

His face was wholly impassive, but the coal of his eyes ignited with an internal spark. Gaara looked curiously from him, to Hinata, and back. And his mouth closed, with a wry grin curling onto his twisted thin lips. The eyes said more than the mouth, and Gaara saw the obvious "Fuck off" in this newcomer's eyes. They spoke of territorial instinct, and Gaara feared he was once again too late.

Holding his hands before him in mock-defense, he side-stepped Sasuke, shoving his hands in his pockets as he sauntered away.

"_Perhaps another time, Princess."_

Maybe she'd be able to hear that, at least.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

There was a light drumming pulse in his forehead, threatening to rupture a hole into the spot. Even worse, though, was that he began to wonder what had caused his migraine.

She had just...sat there. As that, that thing's words, his ghost fingers had slithered down the curve of her neck. How far would she have allowed it if he, if he hadn't, if…

Ha, and what was she supposed to say? He shook his head, cursing. This wasn't him. Getting angry over something like…

Shifting his eyes to the side, her side, he caught sight of her.

And that was the end of him.

This small, delicate thing he wanted to shield and protect. So broken and lost, just like him. The only question was: did he have any room left in him for something like her? Could he move aside the hate, the rage, the indifference for this slant of light?

Sasuke could ignore her pull, and could ignore her altogether. It wouldn't change a thing, which was the story of his life. But…why shouldn't he say it? Why shouldn't he let her know what was going on inside him?

The bench was rumbling with her shaking, and he wondered why she cared so much about someone who wanted her under a bus. What had Sakura done for her? What could she possibly gain from having compassion for her?

That was where their differences were.

"Hinata." Sasuke knew better now. He stood before her as he said it, daring her to look down and avoid him. She stared at him, eyes blooming at the formation of her name on his lips. Did she herself so lowly in his eyes?

"Hinata. Were you scared?" She flinched, trying to turn and avoid him, his lips, but she could not seem to do it. "Were you scared back there?" His eyes were steel, liquid steel, that she could not fathom bending.

Sasuke could feel something new arise within him, within them, and he fought with it. Should he stop it? Should he let it be? He knew what _he_ would do.

_He_ would not be having this conversation at all. _He_ would be sitting there, that stupid emptiness slathered across his face, because nothing mattered. Life was not even a game, because in games there are things to be won, things to be lost. _He _never lost anything, because nothing mattered to him at all.

…Did he want to be like _him_? Was he doomed to be a mere reflection of the ghost that most haunted his misfortunate existence?

His hands spoke for him, their loud resounding protest, as they moved to slightly, so softly, to rest against the slope of her temple. Her thoughts, her dreams, broken and alone – they were behind this. His fingertips grazed it, alleviating the knots inside her.

"You can be weak. You can be scared." Somewhere in between the turmoil and the struggle, her hands had found there way to his arms, clutching at them. It was a single unconscious act – only the fact that it was unconscious did Hinata's body allow her to have this small piece of longing in need. Her hands – they grasped him, just as how one would grasp for the ledge of a slippery slope. It was her last resort to avoiding her bottomless grave.

Sasuke discovered this, surprised that he had not noticed it, as he was always averse to the human touch. Why, now, should he decide otherwise?

As his eyes went from her small face, to her small hands, and alternated, he could feel that something new swell within him again, gorwing louder and apparent. _"I will not be you. I will not be you."_

"You can need me, Hinata."

The small fingers tightened their grip, and Sauske wondered what cliff she was struggling to hold onto now. Could she know what how much he meant is such little words?

"You can need me, Hinata." He really needed her to know. And so he continued to repeat this in his head, hoping that somehow her words would intermingle with his and he'd know her.

Did she feel the gravity of his words, and how he needed her to understand? Could she understand it from his eyes, and his eyes alone?

A strength that he would think would be unknown to one so small and frail swelled into her fingers. They came to a breaking point, and the pain was real to him, climaxing as she opened her mouth.

It was the strength she exerted to fight her words. She was fighting back her words, and just maybe he had won the battle.

_Speak to me._

"And…you?"

Her shaky, delicate words screamed helpless, screamed broken, but they also spoke of tenderness and compassion. She had needs, but above all she needed someone to let her know that she was not the scum on the bottom of everyone's shoes.

Hinata was, simply put, loving. She was made to be loving…it's just that no one gave her the chance. They denied her, and her love became meaningless.

"I'd like if I could need you." Sasuke resolved to say what he meant, and mean what he said. And in this way, he would never again be like _him, aniki._

The pain in his arms subsided. Her hands were weary from their lost battle, and they fell from his arms in acceptance. Before they fall he caught them with his own, trying to rub warmth into them, but his were too cold to do any good.

Apart, they were each buried in their own tombs of snow. Both cold, both alone. No one above ground could be bothered to dig them out.

Together, perhaps, they could find a way. They could dig a tunnel through their graves, find each other halfway, and together bear the cold together. Together, with their shared warmth, they could withstand the cold.

They were digging, clawing, scratching in hopes of reaching in the middle. It was a long tunnel, but Sasuke could hear her. He was not yet close enough to make out her words, her feelings, her thoughts. But it stood that he could hear her, so they were getting close.

They were finding each other. Perhaps it was too late to resurrect from their graves. But they could make a new beginning, together underneath in their own entrapment. Maybe everything was changing, because they understood that now, just maybe, it did not matter that they had no one above their graves that could dig them out.

Aniki would stay in his grave, and he did. No matter how many people tried, he would never move.

Now Sauske was moving….for her sake…and his.


	16. Chapter 16

We're getting there, step by step. Drop by drop, until we reach a clear ocean. 

**Chapter 16 – Ray of sun, breath of air, sea of sense**

"Regular speech"

"_Thought"_

_Flashback_

Ino wiped her moist hands onto her jeans, watching as her flower was sagging from her sweaty palms. She tried time and time again to convince herself that it was only Sakura she was going to visit. There was nothing to fear; just Sakura.

So she had no reason to be this crazy.

Yet again, she had to switch the flower from hand to hand to wipe her ample moisture onto her soiled designer jeans. Hell, who was she fooling. Not even herself, as the sweat gave testament to. 

She was going to right a wrong. To reattach the frayed ends of a severed bond that she had refused to acknowledge until now. She just hoped she wasn't too late, and that the string would be there.

It was only a short distance, so Ino saved herself from a slippery-palmed death and walked. Even beneath her long blue JC coat, her teeth still chattered in the numbing cold. Despite the cold Ino took her time – anything, really, to prolong this moment.

It wasn't the moment itself that Ino feared…but what it would become. The approaching unknown – that's what made the cold preferable.

Would she hate Ino? Or worse yet, would she forgive her, and remind Ino of what a bitch she was? At this time, Ino could not decide which was worse.

"I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry." This mantra, it was her painted veil; the veil with which she masked her shame. So deep was her shame, that the repetition was wholly unconscious – an honest manifestation of her true and earnest shame.

"Well you damn well should be."

Ino whirled around at the sound of the pleasant familiarity in her catty voice. She was a deer in headlights; a child with her hand caught in a cookie jar. That's right, a child. She felt every bit a child as she began to blubber with tears.

Before the rose in her hand could snap from the pressure, Temari smoothly whisked it from her. "Should I go put this in Sakura's room, or is it for some much over-due ass-kissing?"

"It's yours, take it! I'll give you all the flowers in the world! All of them! Oh, take it, Temari!"

Leave it to Temari to use humor in such circumstances. It was for her, and she knew it. Even now, she was trying to make Ino feel like a human again. And it was done in every bit the Temari way – hidden in a veil of subtle bitchiness that was now more than ever understood. And adored.

With slight awkwardness, Temari began to pat Ino's back slowly, with the patience of a bratty child's mother. The patting abruptly ceased, and Ino feared that the unknown was turning into the worst fathomable fortune.

"Temari?" Not a word, and her doubts climaxed into sheer terror. Was she too late? Ino felt the warmth on her back erupt into a maelstrom of fire. Was it anger, at her? The unknown became too much for Ino to endure, so she hesitantly broke away from Temari's comfortable warmth and looked for anything that would yield her answers.

The look was neither long nor hard. Before her, a stoic face traced with troubled shades of angst stared not at her, but in between the two of them. How odd it was, indeed. Out of all the possible encounters Ino had envisioned of her and Temari, never once did he appear.

Now, they simply stared. Two with guilt, one with torn indignation. Two with regret, one with repressed agony. Two with indecision, but all three with understanding.

All together, it was easy now, so easy. It was easy to see that things were right, for now. Three souls. Three friends. Three minds at unease, yet two that just weren't quite ready to let go.

Because that was the way things work in this world. Some things were tainted, blemished, imperfect. Just as we are, there can still exist somewhere within a small shred of goodness that can revive the memories of the past and make them anew. Better, even, past illusions of false perfection.

Two souls regained something lost. And one lost nothing, as nothing was what she had. She knew this now, and everything was right.

And with this Ino walked out of the hospital doors, flung off her heavy coat, and felt the newfound warmth seep into her pores. It was not so cold outside anymore, now that the cold inside of her had at last made its depart.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"You know, I hated you."

It was a breath of air, after lifetimes of suffocation.

"Do you know why I hated you so much?"

That he could speak like this. As free as the air that was there for you to breathe. Free.

"You reminded me of two people – one of them was me."

He was looking down at her face that was nestled onto his lap, but she was looking at directions that strayed far from his own. Maybe it was better this way – that he could feel for once, so light and uplifted. "That's right. I hated me. I...still do."

For winter, it was surprisingly bright out today, and still there were not many bodies wandering through the park – their park. Yes, today it belonged to them – a boy on a bench, a girl stretched onto his lap. Even in comparison to his relatively thin legs, she looked small. 

She was small. A perfect fit for the bench she was stretched across. 

Sasuke was unsure of how it had happened, or when it did. It had just happened so naturally, as though she had spent her entire life with her head resting against his lap. And he had spent his entire life on this bench, waiting for her to occupy his vacancy.

Unexpected…yet not, in a strange new way they were both beginning to discover.

"I hated how cold you were…just like me."

In the deserted park, heard only by the neighboring trees, Sasuke felt light. There were no ears to hear, no eyes to judge but hers. He spoke, looking straight ahead, leaving her free to look and listen if she should decide to.

"Like him, mostly. That's what made me hate you." Sheltered in silence, he felt like he could fill it up in a way that he had never done. "I wonder…" he absent-mindedly took a fistful of her growing hair, curling his fingers until they slipped out of his grasp.

"Do you remember me?"

Hinata looked at the trees – how they swayed from even the lightest of breezes. Here, right now, she felt like the trees. In such a simple action, her head in his lap, she felt her whole world swaying in yet another new direction.

It was all so overwhelming, yet all so overdue.

Now and then she would allow herself a glimpse of him. The slope of his neck, jagged from the bump in his throat; his sharp, arrowhead jawbones; his delicately severe features. These were the things Hinata saw and heard, not the movement of his lips.

He was not the sunshine in her life. He was every bit as cold as she was, and she wondered how they would keep each other from the numbness of it all.

His icy fingertips grazed her scalp as they ran through her silken locks, and she was alert; _aware_. Aware of how uninhibited he was right now. Something somewhere told him to stroke her hair, and he did. Something somewhere told Hinata to open her mouth, her heart, her truths, and share with him the scars of hers that would not fade. 

How easy it seemed, but it was anything but. Shackled in ties of guilt and self-hate Hinata could not –she would not let him be a part of her monsters. They were hers, and hers alone.

Suddenly he looked down onto her, and everything in her froze: her thoughts, gone. Her breath? Stolen.

Stolen by a boy who wanted to need her as badly as she needed him.

Did she remember him? That's what he wanted to know.

That's what she wanted to know to, but the lock on her memories of past would not allow it. She was unworthy – of him, and everything good that could happen to her.

She tried to fight it – tried to jump up from his lap and run away, disappear where he could never find her. But she was weak, she knew; she needed him to help her rise.

Above the shadows of her sins.

The locks placed onto her heart.

She needed this so badly, yet she knew she shouldn't allow herself this.

It was hard, so hard, she couldn't decide what to do. To stay, in this haven of a boy she did not deserve, or banish into the depths of her familiar sea of condemnation.

And in a single motion, he made it that much harder.

Sasuke stood, taking her with him, holding her with an unsettling ease – was she really so withered? He took her waist in his hands and, with too much strength to be called gentle, hoisted her onto the steps. 

With her, elevated above him on the first of many, endless stairs, they were for once eye to eye.

It was so she could see him for what he was – a troubled soul in need of salvation – and see herself as he saw her; the way she looked in his own eye.

Could he convey it? The way he saw her?

A shattered spirit, long vacant and forsaken. A precious remnant of his past: she was living, breathing proof of the person he used to be – the person that he could perhaps return to be. _That _was precisely why she was so precious.

She was his only chance now to turn back. Break from the shadow of the one he called Hero. Now, she was his only link to his past self; only she could bring him back.

Troubled, like him, and broken inside. Holding onto something, it hurts her, it hurts her. If she would just let it out, and let him in.

He was trying too. To let her in him, so she'd know that she was needed, and she could freely need in return.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"_Okay Sakura, now I'm going to say a word. You give me your automatic, most honest response to it. Nothing matters, just be yourself and be honest. I'm here to listen."_

"_Yes, Dr. Please go ahead."_

_Dr. Yamanaka Inoshi, expert in all matters of the mind, turned on the tape recorder._ "Okay Sakura, we're going to begin. Here is the first word." After a considerable pause to cleanse her mind of predispositions, he spoke. "Sister."

"Loving. Caring. Beautiful." _A smile. She had smiled._

"Window."

"Danger. Peril. Pain." _She had almost laughed, but it was well suppressed._

_The systematic nature of her responses had been deeply alarming, but Inoshi had to follow procedure and go onward._

"Jealousy."

This time, the silence was more reassuring to the mind specialist, but even that was short-lived. "Nothing. This word makes me think…nothing."

_Inoshi remembered nodded, growing steadily more troubled by the second. _

"Love."

"Hearts, Valentines, eternity, devotion."

The last one. And this one mattered most of all. 

"Hinata."

"Sunshine and warmth. Yes, sun. In my eyes, plenty of sunshine!"

The tape ended, and Sakura's mother jumped to her feet with tears in her eyes. "See, my Sakura-rose is fine! She was just tired, under lots of pressure."

"Well, according to her responses, one can infer that Ms. Haruno has returned to a healthy state of mind. And this is off the records, Mrs. Haruno, but from what I see, her tone of voice and near sarcasm-"

"Nonsense, Inoshi. My Sakura is perfect. Why, I myself was just like Sakura. Overachiver, spirit squad, popular, _never_ a moment to myself-"

And the woman was diving into a cyclone of disarray, lost in the tides of yesteryear. She was gone, and this was as far as he could go. 

Yamanaka Inoshi sighed, leaving unnoticed by the reveling Mrs. Haruno, celebrating a cause that was not so certain.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"_Naruto…Naruto how could you?...When I needed you. The one time I do, this is what you do to me."_

"_Do to me._

_Do to me…"_

A swirling abyss of calamity.

"_I'm not spoiled. I'm not selfish. I'm the one who needs more care. I need love. I need love."_

"_love…love…_

…_love…"_

Each answer, it's own succession of estrangement.

"_I'll prove myself, Naruto. I'll get out of here. I'll be free. Sasuke, Sasuke, you are my last chance. I need you now – surely you won't fail me? I'm alone."_

"_..Alone.."_

Troubled seas ahead, with only a one-person lifeboat.


	17. Chapter 17

Hello everyone! Sorry for the delayed update, but I had a maajoor project due, but now it's done and so is this chapter. Enjoy (and don'tn be a stranger ;)

**Chapter 17 – Disgrace**

"Dialogue"

_Flashback_

"_Thought"_

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

"It wouldn't hurt if you said it."

They were on that beach; it was the same beach where they had come to understand each other's pain. It was that oddly familiar pain that inexplicably drew them to one another.

Hinata could squirm, which she did. She could knock him unconscious and run, which she tried to. But there was no denying that she had read his words, loud and clear.

In a surprisingly dramatic fashion one would not think him capable of, Sasuke stopped midstep and seized her wrists, forcing her to look at him.

"Tell me."

He could feel the blood coursing through her arms hasten as the heat pooled around his fingers. Flushing, Hinata shook her head and ducked, trying to break free from his grip.

"Please."

Leave it to Sasuke to beg in a manner that was anything but begging. His face remained the same, more serious even, and the random passerby could not help but get the vague sense that something horrible was occurring.

What else would one suspect at the sight of a grave, serious man seizing the arms of a flushed, struggling woman?

The words felt foreign in his mouth, but they were undeniably...uplifting. He knew, what he said here and now, they were irrevocable. Yet he found that here, in this precise and deliberate moment, he didn't care. These words, her presence - they were newly discovered escapes from his own pallid life.

Hinata, poor Hinata. She tried to release herself from his hold, but her desperate attempts proved only to be slightly amusing.

It was one thing to reach the point where she could freely admit it to herself. But to confess it to him, aloud mind you, was an entire world apart.

Say it? _Say_ it aloud? Impossible. Who knew what sorts of misfortune and misery her words would cause this boy. Impossible, impossible.

Couldn't he see that she was incapable? It wasn't a simple matter of want - she just could not.

The longer he stared at her with those eager eyes, the greater her desperation became. Hinata could feel it now: the adrenaline. It was a relatively unknown experience to her, and the feeling was surprisingly uplifting. With this, Hinata gave it one last tug and prayed it would be enough to free her.

It had been quite some time since she had shown any indication of struggle or…life, for that matter. It was only a matter of time, it was only a matter of time.

And it was with this mindset that Sasuke allowed himself to be caught off-guard by her sudden surge of energy. He did not release her; she did not break free.

He did, however, lose his footing and let gravity do the rest.

Sasuke made no move to get up and offer her his hand like a proper young man would do. And Hinata was Hinata, and was too positively shocked to do anything beyond breathing.

Heavy, labored breathing.

When had it become so deserted? They were suddenly alone in this wide stretch of land that knew no ending. It heightened their limits, allowing them to believe that in this brief moment, there were none at all. Not a single one.

From where they lay, the tides crept high enough onto shore to barely graze their exposed feet. The water was cold, and it made them more alert and aware of one another.

Now more than ever, with only the ocean breeze between them, Sasuke could see how soft and pale she looked against the sand. The ocean breeze carried with it the scent of wild flowers, and he could not for the life of him remember if he was at the ocean or in a forest. Under a tree, on a rock, beside a stream, wading in water – wherever they were, he was only aware of the fact that they were together.

And looking up at him, Hinata could see every angle, every contour of his face – how every rough angle was softened with an air of mystery and refinement. How steady he was, lifted off the ground to lessen her strain – how truly strong he was.

Slowly, slowly, she felt him lower himself, closer to her. The sea air diminished until between them nothing existed. It was only them, together. Closer than they had ever been.

…Would they end it here?...

…Or would they test their limitless chances and push their nonexistent boundaries?

The tides continued to tug at them, pulling, as if to urge them to go on in this place without limits. Pulling, pulling them until they both gave in to the currents and fell.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

With every step, Sakura was moving forwards – and back.

One step closer to them, of course, and one step farther from reason.

From logic. Rationale. Sanity. Here in her abandoned ship, they were lost to her: back at shore, where she had left behind herself.

How many steps until she lost it all together? How many?

It was dark skies, but even darker seas. The waters - they were her mind: steadily darkening from the poison of her tears.

Onward sailed her ship, despite its holes. With each onward pull, her little lifeboat filled with water. Sinking, it was sinking - it'd be no use once it sunk.

The winds were violent, like the recesses of her mind. That should have told her to turn back for shore. But Sakura was lost, and she continued in her one-man boat. Now here she was, capsized under the weight, and who was there to turn her upright? She had turned them all away.

But that's why she was here, right? That's why she had followed them. Ever aching step that bid her braced ankle to scream, it was well-worth it. Sasuke would see her devotion. He would see her, and know:

That he loved her.

He had to.

They were growing fainter in the distance, and Sakura clomped with her good leg, driven by her manic instincts. There was no stopping her now.

At last they slowed, at a beach. The same beach Sakura never frequented, for its rural charm did nothing to seduce her. Sans the crowds, the shops, the glamour, she had separated herself from this place that had nothing for her.

And this was exactly where they chose. Somewhere she would never be.

"_Tell me Sasuke please. Tell me you're bewitched."_

They spoke to each other – at least, Sasuke did. Hinata walked beside him with that deceptively coy little grin of hers.

How did it feel? Sakura closed her eyes, and for once, imagined that she was someone else. At present, she was a small, dark-haired girl with impossibly pure skin and unusually pale eyes. She was walking beside Sasuke, listening to everything he said without having to.

How was it possible? How could they be, when she couldn't listen, and he wouldn't speak?

Only now he was – speaking, what he had never done with her. Why? She would gladly listen! Here, in the shadows of their steps, she was only a ghost of the past. She had no substance – wouldn't he acknowledge her?

They had stopped now, and Sasuke was reaching for her as she shied away. They drifted away from her, disappearing past the slope of a sand dune. Sakura's patience had eroded to nonexistence, and she had just about had her limits. She proudly stomped towards them as best as her ankle could manage and climbed past the dunes that sheltered them from her.

She expected them to scramble away from each other. Or, at least acknowledge her.

But they didn't.

They didn't even care if she was alive.

They were nestled into the sand, and he was holding her with a gentleness that she had never suspected him capable of. He loomed over her, touching yet supporting his weight, and her hands timidly ran back and forth against his collar bone. They kissed. And they stayed that way, their lips touched in a simple kiss, unaware of anything or anyone else.

A million commands pushed and shoved their way into her head, but they dissolved into the ensuing chaos.

Even as they surfaced from their tides, they refused to see her. Sakura looked at her sister, and became her – the lost, lonely one that nobody could see.

She was now deaf like her, too. All that was in her was drowned out by an inexplicable roaring in her ears. She was unaware of anything anymore except that roaring fury in her ears, and she let it take her away from the remnants of her sanity.

It was a hollow sensation, and Sakura clutched at her stomach – empty. Overpassed and overlooked – it left her a washed out shell-of-a-girl, and there was nothing left within her. This body that was not hers took a step forward, and Sakura felt purpose.

To reach the tide. To sink between the sand. She felt so small, she could melt in with the grains.

It was a purpose, at least, and it left her feeling substantial. She was no longer hollow, so she took another step. And another. In this way, she treaded towards the sea with the uncertain steps of a newborn.

She reached the water, and it was cold. So cold that she could no longer feel. The numbness was appreciated, for it surely beat the bitter emptiness within her.

Step, step. No more legs.

Step. No more hips.

Step step step. Now she was only a head. Only a step more, and she's disappear forever. That way she'd never have to feel empty again. Sakura let herself fall into the water, where the tides would fight for her shell…

only to surface once again by the will of another.

It was not Sasuke. Of course it was not. He had brought her here.

Sakura pulled, but the arm would not release her. Panic alone drove her to do it – she clawed at this arm, scratched it, scathed it. A caged animal, she was – clawing for her freedom.

Hinata saw the red, her red, spiral up in clouds of haze as the one called her sister continued to draw it from her. So much red that a steady ring circled about her wrist until she was convinced that water has always been red.

From the corner of her eye she saw him coming her way. Let her go? She couldn't.

Red, red, and more red. It stained her sleeve, her shirt, her eyes. So much, that once again she saw red.

_Red in her father's eyes. Red in her mother's. In the lights. On her face. In the ambulance – the lights had pooled onto her face, the red lights._

"_Let me go."_

"_Let her go."_

"_I won't let you go."_

Three hands – one tugged, one held, one scratched.

Two hearts had given up: _"Let me go"/"Let her go."_

One heart still held fast: _"I won't let you go."_

This time, Hinata wouldn't let it come.

This time, Hinata would stop death.

Three times Hinata had failed. But this time was different, because she wouldn't.


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18 - Atonement

I am ecstatic, because this fic has surpassed my Turmoil, so thank you all for making that possible!! However, in recent chapters, reviews have hit an all time low, which is perfectly fine. What concerns me, though, is the quality of the story. Has it decreased (resulting in lower reviews?) If that's the reason, I would be very grateful if you wonderful readers could let me know anything that could be improved  So, any comments/criticism would be much appreciated. Thank you all for reading!

**Chapter 18 – Atonement**

_Flashback_

"_Thought"_

"Speech"

When Sakura woke up, _he_ was there.

Just like before, only this time she was ready. She knew he'd be here.

She'd been sure of it.

She'd counted on it.

He was hunched over, and at her angle she couldn't see his tears, so much as hear them.

"Naruto."

"Naruto."

She would say his name, until he listened. Just as how he had yelled hers, only for her to turn away. But this time, she was calling, and she would until he answered. She would.

"Naruto."

He seemed to stiffen at the sound of his name, for it was a new occurrence altogether. She needed to reach him, and for him to reach back, but first he had to listen. So she spoke.

"Please understand."

She treaded slowly towards him, reaching out with child hands to lightly touch him. When her touch was a hair's breath away, his ragged breath shattered her confidence, and her wispy vine fingers withered away in recoil. He was winter's breath, and her flowers withered.

"I thought that I was helping you. God, do you know what it did to me to say those things to you? No, no you don't. Nobody would say it to you, so I did, even if it made you hate me! So what do you do? You take everything I said and, and…throw it back in my face! That's what I understand." He paused, but his fervor did not extinguish. "You know, I knew you wouldn't praise me, or thank me. But I didn't expect this."

It was a prolonged moment of silence, and the sight of his back was extremely unsettling. She needed to see his eyes, their seas of clarity, and remind herself of why she needed him to understand her.

Baby steps. She took baby steps, and approached him when the silence felt secure.

"Are you ready to talk to me now? Will you hear me out?"

He gave her only silence, and she closed her eyes. It was all she had, and she was taking it.

"It's over, Naruto."

"Then why'd you do it? Why are you in a hospital bed again? Why is Hinata next door with bandages on her arm?"

Humiliated and shamed, but she had to go on. She had dragged her sad ship out to see, and now she had to reach the shores again.

"I needed to know Naruto. I needed to…cross the line. Naruto, I needed this. I needed this so much, to put me in my place and tell me I don't own the universe." The smiling tears in her eyes poured down her face as she finally allowed herself to overflow.

She knew what she had to say, and it would break her. It would destroy everything she knew, and everything she had grown to accept. It would break her, yes it would. But better broken, she reasoned, then left to fall. When you broke, someone could mend you; when you fell, you were lost for good.

"And now I know. That I can't…have everything."

When he turned around, he saw what he heard – brokenness. She was shattered, with pieces swept away by the winds that don't give back. Now she had gaps where those pieces had used to be. Only reconstruction of herself could ever hope to patch these gaps.

In that ocean, he had let her go. In that ocean he had killed her. Sasuke had killed her, and now…now she didn't know who it was that now sat before Uzumaki Naruto.

"Was it worth it, Sakura? What you did, do you think it was worth it?"

She had hurt others, and she had hurt herself. She had given up, and given in. But…what she really found…

Was someone who cared.

Who wouldn't look the other way as she surrendered herself. It hadn't been who she had hoped it would, but it was _someone_. And her act of strength had saved Sakura that night…and future nights as well.

Somewhere in her thoughts, she must've nodded because Naruto unraveled from his coils of fury. And so, she could breathe.

"What do you want now, then?"

"_What do I want?"_

She looked into his eyes, his ocean blue eyes.

"I want water." _"I want them to wash me clean._" Ocean blue eyes. "Water."

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hinata had thirty-seven scars on her forearm.

The salt of the seas had torn apart her throat as she cried in silent terror.

Her feet were rubbed raw from being dragged across the sand.

But the only damage Hinata felt was the tremor inside her, where the damage remained unseen.

The bandages stopped the bleeding, and the medicine was mending her throat. The flowers were nice, as were the balloons (she would have to thank Naruto and Ino). But…how were they going to heal the wounds beneath her skin?

Fear.

She was terrified. The scars would stay behind, but they would heal. Her throat would be sore for weeks, but her voice would not be missed. Salve on her feet would mend the skin. All these things would heal with time. Inside however – time had proved ineffective.

Still that blaring cry of the ambulance, and the glaring headlights in her eyes – they haunted her, and it had happened a lifetime ago.

Still she saw the face that never was, in every midnight sky – a false hopeful reminder. The face that could've been…if she had just followed orders.

Death, her persistent follower. At every corner, he shadowed her. No matter how quiet she was, how well she hid herself, he found her.

She had seen death that night – in the one called sister's face. It was an old acquaintance of hers, and it seemed that no amount of running or silence could allow her to evade it indefinitely.

_The skies were bright – deceptively so. Warm sun, gentle breeze: they all hinted at the perfect day that never was._

_It was intended to be a picnic – but only a light lunch, for the Hyuga lady's stomach could only handle so much._

_It was intended to be a moment of perfect family contentment. _

_By all accounts, it had been a disaster. _

_Because that intended day never was._

_Throughout that car ride, they were traveling down two winding roads: one made of gravel, and the other of human greed._

_With the sun reflecting through the windshield, little Hinata could scarcely see her parents' faces. Still, she could hear the malice in their voices. _

_The tragedy was the insignificance of it all._

_The insignificance she had brought on._

_Trace words born on angered lips, dying in their significance – stillbirth._

"_She doesn't want to run this company. Hizashi's boy can do it!"_

"_You know well that that's against tradition! When my father founded this company-"_

"_Let it go, Hiashi. Please. Or you'll lose her, I swear to you, you will."_

_Hinata stared at the bright glare that was there faces, imagining a time when they were smiles. It was hard to recall, for she was blinded by the perpetual graveness of her words._

_Words she had never intended to breathe life into._

_Words she had known better than to say._

_Words she would've sold her soul to take back._

_But words, no, you never could; that's the thing. Nobody knows._

"_She is a child! Tomorrow she'll want to be a…a musician! Are we to drop everything and enroll her in new classes yet again?"_

"_I'm begging you, Hiashi. On my dignity. You know I never ask for anything." Her face deflated into utter fatigue, and she unconsciously ran a soothing hand over her ever-growing bump. Protectively, with guardian hands, she cradled the life-to-be, saving it from the fate of her eldest._

_It was a long stretch of silence that Hinata was blessed with. She looked to the skies outside, at how much more space there was in your head when words weren't there. Words had gotten them all here – here, a place she would never be in again. Silence. Silence, my dear, silence._

_Hiashi's eyes divided their attention to the road and his wife, his poor tired wife. His eyes grew a preference for his wife, his wife that had endured tradition after tradition, until they disregarded the road altogether. He then turned to his wife, who caught him with unguarded hope in her eyes. She waited, for his words, the words that would preordain the life of her eldest. Waiting, waiting…_

_And she would have to wait for ever, for those words, they never came – so much like their perfect day._

_When the car capsized, Hinata never noticed – her word was already in such utter tumult. This collision was a mere ripple in the tidal waves of her regret._

_So when she saw the white-suited men pull her from the car, she screamed in honest fear. She cried, because they were taking her away from Otou-san and Oka-san – Hanabi-chan, too._

_No, they told her. No. They weren't taking her away._

_Because in the car, the only home she had known, were two bundles of red that she didn't know. But she knew, that red, she did it – it was hers, and hers alone to bare on her crumpling shoulders._

_Young shoulders-Child shoulders. Shoulders that could hardly bear the burden of herself._

_Now with two bundles of red to add._

_The child was sinking from the get-go._

_The crowds, they lamented. They reached out to the red-stained child, touched the red-stained child, pulling her back._

_But didn't they know? It was no use._

_She was lost. Gone. Silence had claimed her._

_Past the string of faces gathered around, she saw only one - repeated infinitesimally:_

_Death. On each face. She had brought him here, with those words - those that had seemed nothing._

_Together, in the car, was the previous body of Otou-san - tenderly reaching across for Oka-san, who was glass-eyed and had her guardian wings cloaked about her stomach - gone._

_So much like her, with those glaring red lights painting the shade of her path thereafter._

She had lost them. She had lost them all.

And, in the seas, she had almost lost another.

Those same old fears, evaded though they were, left an unmistakable seed of terror within her that sprouted into full-bloomed horror.

When he walked into her, with those stained-glass eyes of immeasureable fear, he did not understand. Was it pain? Yes it was, Sasuke - but a different kind.

He reached out to her, to touch her, but she sent a jolt throughout him as she caught his hand and held it for all that she had within. Never before had she responded. She had been a pallid corpse- unresponsive to touch, aversive, almost.

Yet here she was, holding onto his hand as though she was dangling over the highest of cliffs.

In a way...she was.

Sasuke felt...a pulse.

Still he did not understand the meaning of this - of anything, really. But he knew, something was happening inside her single touch.

The touch that took so much. Because it showed she cared.

"I don't want to lose you."

From her salt-rubbed throat, he could scarcely decipher her choked, breathy words. All her words – so fragile, he thought she would fade away. But he heard them all the same. There was an impulse, and he nearly enveloped her and to reassure her, "I'm right here! I'm right here!" But something told him it was a matter he was entirely alien to.

He softly took hold of her arm, and he feared his own strength when he saw her cry.

But it was not pain. No, it wasn't.

It was her last.

There, in the car, silence had claimed her family – she had let them die.

In the orphanage, silence had stolen her any chances of happiness – she had watched them disappear.

It had stolen her light, that sunshine-haired boy – she had let him get away.

It had stolen everything and anything she dared to cast her eyes on.

She looked to Sasuke, saw him, wanted him.

It would not take him away.

She would make sure of it. She would speak until there was no more air; scream until there was no more blood; laugh until there were no more tears; live until there were no more days. She would.

She would.

Sasuke had clawed his way through the snow to reach her icy grave underground. All this time, he wondered. He wondered if there was really someone inside – someone real that he could hold.

Now he was taking apart the walls. And inside?

Scared. Half-frozen and hardly living.

But you know what?

He touched her. And she was cold.

_Cold._ So she was real after all.

You know what else?

He _could_ hold her, feel her slowly pulsing heart.

And he did.

Yes. Real after all.


	19. Chapter 19

Amazing, how he could look so unchanged

Hello everyone! Man o man, has this past month and a half been a doozy. But, who cares about my life, on with the story! I'd like to thank you all for your patience, and if you have been extremely angry and impatient, hell, I can't blame ya! I hope you enjoy it all the same 

**Chapter 19 – The greater truth**

Amazing, how he could look so unchanged.

He donned—

the same unruly haircut;

the usual air of apathy;

the stationary bleakness in his eyes.

How, then, could he be so unsame? Everything he had _thought_ he'd known about her was capsized, leaving an overturned-page of writing that he could not decipher. How could it be?

She had _told him._

She did, really did.

"_Otou-san…Okaa-san…"_

Why she hid her head in shame whenever she happened across happy families.

"_H-Hanabi-chan."_

Why the jovial sight of fireworks heaved perpetual grief upon her.

"_Murder-murderer." _Your words, or theirs?

_She would not see him. Not even face him. So withdrawn was she, forcing him to exert the extra effort unknown to him and step before her._

"_Your parents were murdered?"_

_If anything, Uchiha Sasuke was never second-best to the floor. He seized her chin and was appalled to feel newfound strength within he resistence. _

"_Face me." Please._

_She was asking him to leave her be, but she _wanted_ him to change her. He just knew she did. _

_Undo her at the seams._

_With careful hands, he held her, wounded bird that she was, and carefully lifted her onto the stool. Her eyes expectantly peered at him, and he took it as confirmation that his decision had been right._

_Give, and take._

_Yielding and accepting._

_It was a balance act of new proportions._

"_Your parents were murdered?"_

_That long stretch of pause – _You don't fool me, Hyuga. Not one bit. She forced him to wait, so he'd drop it. But he wouldn't, so she _knew_ he cared. So she _knew_ he wanted to know.

He waited.

"_By me."_

Why she had grown to fear her untimely weapon, and the light which it so brightly bore. So many things to fear, he wondered her she bothered to drag herself outside—into a world filled with nothing but reminders.

"_Atonement_."

For what? Dreaming? There is no selfish dreamer, only the living and waiting—

waiting for death.

She had transitioned from one to the other...could she/would she change again?

He needed to read her overturned story.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Sasuke saw his car in the lot, and took deliberate steps away from it. She had been in the backseat. So, he would too.

He was so lost – and this time, he knew it.

Right past his car, he continued out of the hospital's parking structure, and ambled into the streets. But this was the city, so even in the isolation, he found a cab. _So alone. She looked so alone, like no one had ever bothered to reach her._

Right now, he just had to understand her. He had to find her, or he'd lose her—to_ him_.

She was somewhere far away. So, he would be where she had been. That way, they'd be together.

So into the backseat, where she had been. Lost, confused: that was easy enough.

"_I'm confused. So am I close, Hina? Do you see me coming to you?"_

In the front seat was his father – that cold, stern man. The passenger seat: his mother, an out-of-place warmth. So far, it was easy. They had at least that much in common.

Only, in his own mother, there was no life-to-be – he was the end, the very last chapter.

"_Hinata…is this what you felt?"_

"_Cold. Unsure. Scared?"_

"_I'm trying to find you. Here in this backseat – here, where you let yourself fade away."_

How helpless she must have been. Watching that winding road; it was the same one he was staring at. A road headed down a direction you wanted to change, but couldn't.

The front-seaters, they didn't understand, did they?

"_You just wanted to be free, right?"_

Yes. He could relate.

She just wanted to make a choice.

"_Ha. And that choice just had to ruin everyone's life. Not fair, huh?"_

It was clear.

Watching that winding road, past the heads of the ones they cared for, but ones who didn't know them. No, not well enough; not well enough at all.

She had been a child, a thumb-sized child.

Never being enough. Not even as you sat in the backseat.

They wouldn't look at you.

"_Spoke of you, like you weren't there. You were mad."_

Wait. Hinata wasn't mad, was she? She's far too weak…

…but she wasn't.

"_Admit it. You were mad. Even just a little – it was there."_

"_Why should you be blamed, for something everybody else has? I'm mad."_

Out of the window, the world was a slur of colors that made no sense.

Life.

The swirl of colors – you had to slow it down to single one out.

And right now, he was singling her out. Out of all the faces and colors. He had to know her, or he'd lose her – the last fading link.

Each second in that backseat was a second spent as her. He grew as her, he saw as she did.

And he knew.

"_I'm here, Hina…I'm right here."_

It would appear that he could read it after all.

It was not that he learned to read upside-down writing.

Rather, he capsized himself—for her, he would.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

He couldn't recall ever stumbling out of the cab – it might've been that he refused to let her go. He wanted to keep this understanding of her, remember it, and coax her out of her darkness, and into the light.

But he was out, and in front of his apartment.

Not alone.

"Sakura."

"Calm down. I'm not here for that."

He maintained his look of mild loathing and raised an eyebrow, humoring her to continue. Sasuke would've tried to walk around her, but she was positioned in front of his door, just so, that entering was not a possibility.

Sakura came forward, peering at him from under her fringe, almost shy. Shy for Haruno Sakura, anyway. She was looking at him, really looking at him, in a way she had never before.

"_What do you want?"_

"You wanted me to die, didn't you?"

He didn't deny this. There was no use.

And Sakura heard his silence loud and clear.

"You would've liked that, right?"

No. He just didn't care. Didn't care at all.

"I know I was…pushy." Try vain, selfish, obsessive. "I was out of line. But I did like you, Sasuke-kun. Make no mistake. But…"

"You really hurt me. It was probably my biggest disappointment, and I've had my share. But you know, Sasuke-kun-"

"If you're here for an apology, I'll have to disappoint; go home. If you're here to say you hate me, that's fine. Whatever helps you sleep at night. But I am not a good person. I'm no hero. Go."

He walked towards the apartment complex entrance, and Sakura didn't stop him. She felt his shadow approach her, obscure her, pass over her. It was like the passing of night, his passage, introducing her to a brand new morning.

It was.

Inside, in the place where this thing called "heart" resided in, Sakura felt nothing. There was no tremor of joy, nor rhythm of despair. Just sheer, expounding nothingness.

It was the clearest thing she had ever felt – everything else had been a lie. Her hummingbird heart had been deceived, because now, within, there was nothing inside.

Sasuke, Sasuke. She digested his words, and shook her head. _"You're wrong, Sasuke-kun."_

"_You said you're not a hero…"_

_His hands, her arms, they met in perfect recognition. Her dark hair, matted with sweat and sea, tangled around him as he held onto her. Just as she had held onto Sakura, he had held onto her – a fire in both their eyes. He had held onto her, onto the one for whom he'd become a hero._

_Because he knew saving her meant saving the one he wanted dead …and he did it anyway._

"_I don't believe you, Sasuke-kun."_

She had come here, not demanding apologies, but offering her own gratitude.

The last, from her.

But he had not given her the chance.

Well.

All the same.

She walked away from his porch, from him, with the mindset that it was a purpose fulfilled.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

He knew.

Oh God, he knew.

Monster.

That's what he would think of her. A cold-blooded monster.

And she would agree.

What had compelled her to tell him? In all honesty, he was better off knowing. And the thought of losing his presence…it was an illogical decision. Her brain, her body, her entire _being_ – every part of her deemed it illogical that he should vanish from her life.

Body-guard. Friend. And now…

It frightened her how she needed it so. All of it.

And maybe that was why she had done it. Something—someone who brought her such unexpected joy: he deserved to know. He had the right.

He had the right to her – yes, she had offered it up.

Before he turned to leave, he had grazed the side of her face, the side swallowed in the darkness of her shadows, and let his clarifying touch trace down the length of it.

Then he had left.

Did he scrub away at his hands with vigor? Was he eager to remove the poison of her touch? Her monster's poison.

Was she forgiven?

So vaguely he had left – vague, was he.

What would she possibly do, should her past obscure their future? What _could_ she do? Blame herself? That game had run its winded course, and she was far too exhausted to prolong its twisted course.

Still…

What else? What else was there?

Beg. She would beg. Face-down at his feet, she would.

_Hyugas never beg_.

But no longer a Hyuga, was she. She had killed them, the ones that mattered.

Perhaps that was the hardest part to accept; that she had truly wanted them dead. Every pore within her was a window that exuded her inner loathing of all things Hyuga.

And that alone made her a murderer…

…would he see it that way too?

Her hopes were at ground-level as she felt the warmth of light seeping into her back. A visitor—_the _visitor.

Did she dare to turn and greet him? She couldn't—murderer that she was.

Did she release her deep intake? The air became stifling.

She did, however, unconsciously outstretch her own hands before her, as a child instinctually reaches parent hands.

He had become so much.

Sasuke walked in without a decision –victim, was he.

There was no forgiveness, no sympathy, nor tears.

But there was something indefinitely greater.

Whether he would forgive her or not, there was a greater question, to which the answer far out-shined any others that could obstruct his image of her, buried in her crystal crypt.

Because the answer was, simply put, "_yes."_

To the question her eyes had many times asked—

"_Yes Hinata, yes yes yes._"

Behind her, he lowered himself onto the hospital bed, and though she could not hear its squeak to signify his weight, she immediately felt his heat permeate her.

And…and…he was _singing_.

Each note, an infinite tremor of feeling that echoed into the deepest realm of her core. From then, and onward – through every last nerve of her body.

She felt it-she felt _him._

Resounding within her, his voice, that thrumming echo that quivered her into love-drunk numbness.

"_Yes"_ – he truly, deeply, did.

It seems that misery tears us apart…

…if just to remind us why we were together in the first place.


	20. Chapter 20

Hello everyone. The first part of the chapter is a flashback, so I thought it would be utterly useless to write the whole thing in italics. It should be glaringly obvious that which events are the past, so I think we'll manage :D

**Chapter 20 – Double-edged Sword**

"_They can say whatever the hell they want. Go ahead and say it. I don't care. I don't give a fuck. I hate him. I hate him, I hate him."_

Storm within his mind, a storm that pushed him forward. Everything about him was a storm – there was never even a calm.

How could there be a calm, when all that had ever been brought upon him were the makings of misfortune?

"_I won't forgive him. No matter what they say, what anyone else says."_

The man he had loved had denied him that very love. Love scorned is hate, and he had so much of it to begin with.

"_I hate him."_

Uchiha Sasuke's anger manifested itself into flames –flames that agonized his feet. As such, he stomped with such intensity that the earth beneath him trembled. The anger, coursing up his being, climbed up to his legs in flamed fury, and he kicked anything obstructing his path. This storm, this pent-up storm refused to subside, and the hatred flickered to his arms that thrashed with uncontrolled hostility.

Inch by inch, the flames rose. A stiff back, his wrought neck, and that blatant rage in his bloodied eyes. Even the ends of his hair shot up in uncontained anger, and any and all who encountered his presence shuddered at the youth's murderous hostility. There was something so vile and deep-rooted about his hatred that all who foolishly looked down into his eyes felt the cutting edge of a sword against their bare throats.

As he stormed into a waiting room and descended into a chair, the anger seemed to concentrate around him, clouding the very air within his perimeter. Thankfully, he had sat apart from any living soul, and none was foolish enough to approach such a murderous aura.

"Uchiha-san, Dr. Yamanaka will see you now…"

The raging youth simply looked through the terrified receptionist, past her, and stormed his way through the door.

Sasuke would not listen. He would not understand. And over his dead and dismembered body would he forgive him.

"_You…you…I don't know what you are. You aren't even human."_

"Sasuke-san, why don't you have a seat."

He remained rooted on his feet, glaring at the man with unparalleled hatred and rebellion. "Say what you want so I can leave. I have no intention of staying here."

"Sasuke, please understand that our meeting is crucial to the fate of your—"

When the young psychiatrist blinked, he gasped as the Uchiha youth stood a hair's breath away from him. Those enraged Uchiha eyes, the ones he'd heard so much about, sought to drain him of their own color.

"Don't you dare." He backed away, but his eyes remained wide and inhumane. "Don't even say it."

"…well, our meeting at this moment decides the fate of…well, you know."

"And?"

The new doctor sighed. Why they would entrust an amateur like him with such a case was beyond him. "Please try to understand what I have to say."

"Say it already, then."

"Okay." Taking slow breaths, the doctor tried to clear away his anxiety. "Looking at his past, his records, his criminal profile, your—Itachi has shown many signs quite common to individuals afflicted with a very particular group of individuals." Oh, god, he was losing him. He was losing him already. "Sasuke, do you see what this means?,I have strong reason to believe your brother suffers. He suffers from a disease—"

"You know what I want."

"—it's rather common in males, but most importantly—"

"Let him rot."

"—there have been quite a few in your family who've had this disease, APD. Antisocial Personality Disorder. Characterized by—"

"I don't care."

"complete apathy towards—"

"I don't believe you!"

"crimes, violence, the rights of others, a lack of love or care—"

"You're all just trying to protect him! You're just trying to protect because he's a genius! I don't believe any of you! Let him rot in jail! He can die there! He's dead to me already!"

Dr Yamanaka's eyes slackened in perpetual defeat. As the young boy turned to leave, he had the try. He had to do something.

"Sasuke, please…without your testimony, there is no chance for him. Please, I urge you to think about—"

"I can't sleep. What do you think I've been doing all this time instead?" _"If only I could turn myself off. I don't want to think anymore…I can't. You don't know how much I've replayed that in my head. I'm done thinking. I don't care."_

Dr. Yamanaka opened his mouth, but ultimately let his words die in still birth. He knew: there was nothing to be done. The boy had decided, and no amount of evidence or support could budge him now.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Could he…could he disregard what she had done?

Could he truly disregard them…without disregarding what _he_ had done?

He had said it then, so many years ago, and he was still saying it with every fiber of his being. There was no forgiving him. No, not a chance in hell.

_Blood-stained. Even in the dim light of the moon, the red sheen on his skin was glaringly visible. Blood. Blood of his parents._

Sasuke heaved violently, as if his consciousness was begging him to rid his body of those vile memories. The hot tears burned his eyes as they squeezed shut from the pain. The heaving would not recede, no, not until he drifted into safe unconsciousness.

_Black marble eyes, void of anything at all. Marble eyes did look at him, in utter callous cold._

He was on his knees, scratched into the floor with his bloodied nails. Digging, was he, for a way out from his inner demons. If only someone were to tell him that there was not escape, not the way he planned it.

Exhaustion shook away his pulsating body until he was plastered against his bloodied floor. As a fresh layer of panic glazed over his immobile body, he gladly welcomed the numbness that overcame him. Into darkness he plummeted, where even the horrors of yesterday are too dim to see.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

His first waking thoughts haunted him, at how wholly they possessed him. How sad was he, slave to hate.

Slave to _him_.

"_Brother..."_

"_You just won't let me go…will you?"_

It was a plague, this plague that ate away at his flesh until he was little more than bones. It ate and ate at his humanity –how much further would he allow it?

Even now, he could see her…

…what would she say, seeing him like this? He would hold her, but she wouldn't allow his hands.

His hands that do not forgive. He's burn her with his touch—she was so soft.

How, then?

How could he reach her?

…How could he free himself of this plague? This plagued existence that would slowly bring the end of him?

.

.

.

And in this way, Uchiha Sasuke found himself venturing into roads long left buried, roads he vowed he would never again uncover.

All this.

Just to see that _one_.

This new plague that fought to regain all that had been eaten away. _Love._

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

After all this time, why now had she decided to face this?

The face that she had so often imagined, yet never seen. He had been a small glimmer in the absolute bleakness, though that too had come to an end.

…Why was she here? Why now?

She wanted answers. She was selfish, she knew.

Hinata knew all along with she had held him in a place so deep within her heart. This man, a man she knew by paper alone. Why she had placed him in such a special place when he was essentially a stranger:

They were one in the same.

He knew what she knew—murderers, the likes of them. Hinata had placed him in such a tender spot, because she could relate to the horrors he had done, the same horrors she knew.

Murderers. They were murderers, and misery loves company.

She had sought a murderer…because no one else would have her.

So here she was, in this forsaken house of misery.

…Now, what was she to do?

She walked, with feet both sure and scared. Down, down, past the twin cells, each one a mirror image of the next. How she would find him, she knew not. These feet of hers walked of their own will, past rows and rows of cells that she knew did not house her fellow soul.

3982…3987…

Though she knew not where to go, she felt a sense of knowing that assured her fear of the unknown.

3994…4012…

Each step conjured up an anxiety quickened the rhythm of her drilling heart. Her heart pushed itself to limits unknown, knowing it was getting closer.

4039…4045…4081…

Her eyes dilated as the too-bright lights flooded into her consciousness. What would she do, what would she do? What would he say?

4098…4111…4120…

Her heart stop, bringing a halt to any and all thoughts within her.

4128.

She was devoid.

Cell 4128…prisoner 4128.

_Her_ 4128.

Fate seemed to spare her of thought, as a pale face emerged from the darkness of the cell – a moon against the midnight sky. His face was void, a mirror to her own, and she could not breathe as she stood before the man she had chosen as her support, all those years ago.

"Sunshine."

There was a glimmer in his eyes, though his face gave away nothing. How he knew her was unknown to her, but somehow she had been sure all along that he would know.

What transgressed between them was far too strange for Hinata to comprehend, so she let the unusualness of the moment unfold before them. He looked at her, she at him, and he at her, and her at him, neither naming the mysterious feeling that surrounded them. When he reached and touched her face with his impossibly long fingers, she did not know what she felt, but she did not draw away. Perhaps they would have allowed themselves to be lost in this moment, this lapse from reality, had it not been for the thunderous rumble of footsteps that hammered into her heart.

Four glittering eyes locked onto the figure of the man that frequented their thoughts so very often. Two eyes merely watched the retreating figure in the distance, while two locked onto its target with unmasked assurance. Two legs ran for all they were worth after the man that frequented the innermost chambers of her heart.

"Sas—" The wind choked her, silencing her feeble attempt at calling out to him.

"Sasuke!"

The sound ripped out of her throat, clashing with the angry sirens and horns that infiltrated the air. "Sasuke!"

The raw cry sliced through the outer noise, yet he was far too detached to listen. She had never meant to hurt him—never meant to hide this. She only wanted him to know her as something besides a killer.

"_Sasuke…Sasuke…"_

It was her heartbeat's song.

"_Sasuke..Sasuke.."_

How loudly it resonated with longing from her heart.

She did not concern herself with the headlights that bore into her eyes as she chased him into their path. She did not move as the glaring headlights burned her, nor did she shake away his image as the car came ever-closer.

She had chased him until the end…

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Her broken cries drew him back, long enough for her to see the danger she was in. Once again, like so long ago, only this time he would protect not only from the car, but from the monsters that tormented her.

He turned, back in the direction of his greatest demon, in her direction, and ran. God, it was so close…would he make it?

He had to make it.

Had to…

It was so close.

Would he?

He had to.

Sasuke ran, full-speed, plowing into her frail body with all the intensity of his speed. His momentum carried them off the ground, and she fell crashing onto the pavement, him following after her. From where he lay, panting, above her, she lay perfectly sound and still, the relief flooded across her face despite the blood spilling from her mouth.

"Hinata…don't sleep."

Fading, she was fading.

"_Bring her back. If it's the only good you do, bring her back."_

And, biting his lip, his lifetime hatred, his endless years of anger, he loomed above her, in clear view of her falling eyes.

"Hinata…"

As he prepared himself for his next words, a little part of him died, but a new piece of him arose to replace it, looking into her eyes.

"I forgive you."

"…_I forgive you, too."_

And her eyes were closed no more.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

The end is coming, friends.


	21. Chapter 21

Hello everyone! I don't know if you're aware, but this is the last chapter!! I want to thank the faithful readers and reviewers who have stuck with me to the end. I am immeasurably grateful, because you readers give us purpose. I hope you have enjoyed reading this half as much as I have enjoyed writing it. Thank you once again for taking the time to read! I'd like if you guys could let me know your final thoughts on Confessions, so...on with the finale!

**Chapter 21: Simply, We**

It happened in sickening slow motion. A tall, dark man, hidden in the confines of a dark alleyway. Waiting, waiting for his prey. And there she appeared, this pure white child. Unknowing angel child, she walked past this alleyway—no, _into_ his alleyway. His pale glowing hand snakes her, grating her soft cheeks. It was revolting to watch, and strangely, he could not look away. There was a glimmer in her eyes, as though she was waiting for the sweet sugary treats he would surely offer her.

He could look no more.

He, _he_, was touching Hinata, his Hinata.

What was this feeling? This hot flash of anger, throbbing temples, accelerating pulse—

Without a warning his neck twisted to the side as he deposited the contents of his stomach. Left behind, with that salty bitterness, was the bitter wrench of disgust. Looking through blurry eyes at his soiled deposit: if only he could shed so much more.

In rising temperatures his blood boiled, daring to seep out of his flooded body. Out of his anger, a tiny remnant of leftover logic told him to leave her—or he would hurt her. That much was sure.

_Run._

Where to? All his life he had ran, never with a destination in mind, but a demon to avoid. So lost was he, in this prolonged chase. Even now he ran, away from feelings and

thoughts too tangled to undo.

_Why?_

Why her? Why her, why did _he_ have to ruin everything he had? …Would he ruin this too?

Where he was running too, he didn't know, nor cared. His eyes did not see, his ears did not hear, his heart did not beat—he felt so numb.

Running out of the building, into the sunlight, he felt instantly warm. That sudden rush of warmth brought thoughts of her, and reminders of her touch. Sunshine. Her touch was just like sunshine.

Slowly his heart resumed beat…his ears unfolded. So now he could hear her voice, the luxury denied to her. Her sweet voice, distorted in pain. How loud did she speak, for him to hear? Ragged and torn. Beaten and bruised. The sound of her voice was the touch that unveiled his eyes, and slowly, he could see.

Before he could wholly comprehend what he saw, he ran—this time _to, _not from. One look. All it took was one look at her, the car looming ever closer, and he was no longer still.

.

It only takes a split-second for a bullet to kill.

In that, that infinitesimal split-second, he nearly lost her. That moment was enough—it was all it took for him to shatter anything that would split a chasm between them.

Yes…

…anything.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Was he…lost?

Lost to her?

Her head, she had fallen on her head, all because he couldn't turn to her sooner.

He deserved to be lost, but he was so passed what he did or didn't deserve. She…she simply had to remember. Or, or…

There was no way to complete that thought.

It was…unthinkable.

So brief, their time, but vast, the memories. How each misfortune, each blunder had in someway brought them into creation—together.

Time was lost, and he no longer knew for how long she had stared at him with nothing in her mirror eyes. How long he had sat, idle, as she looked past him and through him.

…She couldn't have forgotten him…could she?

Without moving, she seemed to calculate something within, and he could only hope that things would add in his favor. His fingers itched for her, but…what if…she no longer knew him? What was it to be touched by a strange man you didn't know?

Hell, he didn't care. If she didn't know him, he'd make her.

All.

Over.

Again.

Her mirror eyes shattered at the touch of her hands that firmly cupped her face. Still, it rested in his hold, and he cradled it like a child. "Hinata." She did not respond, and despite his previous boldness, his stomach became a boulder inside of him. "Hinata…do you know…me?"

"…Do you remember?"

As his lips parted to repeat her name, she silenced him with her finger, and he allowed it only because of the warmth her touch brought upon him.

"I…I'm deci—…when I was younger, I liked to pretend. I would pretend that I knew nothing. Remembered nothing. It was a game, but…more. I thought I could be someone else."

Her eyes eased in fatigue without straying from him.

"I…I almost welcomed that car. I almost ran into it. It could've been the end for me. No more of anything." In the light of the window, he could see white lines on her arms—too deep to be Sakura's.

The anger bled through his words in hues of betrayal. "Why didn't you then?" _"How could you…how could you think to leave me?"_ He snatched her arm, absently tracing the lines both faded and old. His other hand found its way to her forehead, where memories of him lied beneath.

"Even…even when I pretended, I always knew who I was. It didn't matter if everyone else didn't know. I did."

Noticing his squinted eyes, she pulled his hands away from her—and tightened her grip on them. His anger melted from his fingers that curled around her own. She drew his fast-held hands to her eyes and flattened them so they covered her eyes. As the wetness began to leak beneath his fingers, he knew no amount of strength could keep them from spilling.

There was only so much hands could do…the rest was simply up to her.

"Do you want to forget, Hina?"

Still the drops spilled beneath his fingers, and he waited until his fingers were wet no more before slowly drawing them away.

"Do you want to forget?" _"Including me?"_

Coming closer, she leaned against the crook of his neck, tracing her nose against the base of his neck as she shook her head.

"In the end, it's not even a choice, Sasuke."

She looked to him, with more strength in her eyes than he thought she had left. "Because then I wouldn't have you."

"Maybe…everything I've done, every pain I've felt, and caused…in someway led me to you." She laughed in embarrassment, the sweetness choked with her tears.

So many days had been spent, wasted, in remembrance of things that plagued her—killed her. All those days, through all these years, she had died many, many times. Days would continue to pass, and she'd continue to die from the memories. But she wouldn't forget. She would die all those times, again and again, to finally find a life in him.

She knew this, as his finger reassuringly traced eight letters into the small of her back, for she could no longer see his face.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 letters.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 letters. Again.

And again.

And again.

And again and again.

So that she wouldn't, not even for a moment, forget.

And she was hearing it, loud and clear.

It was a new type of scar, this one. One unlike any other she had; though no one would see it, she'd feel it there. Even when his finger stopped, she'd never forget the patterns left behind.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

On Hinata's right hand was nothing…because this was something she had to brave on her own will.

In her left, was Sasuke's hand. Because, though she did this alone, he would be thinking of her.

On Sasuke's left hand was nothing…because there was something he had avoided doing. And now was the time where it was this, or nothing.

In his left hand was Hinata's hand. He, too, had to conquer something with his own strength, but he was doing it _for_ her, too.

Hand in hand they walked, independent yet together. That was what they needed most, after all—to know that they were strong enough on their own, but they didn't have to be.

4001, 4002, 4005, 4010, 4030, 4050, 4080—

The time had come to release her—

4182.

The choice was hers to make.

Then or Now.

As she walked away, before she went too far from his reach, he kissed the nape of her neck. She didn't looked back, but he knew she smiled. From here, it was forward steps.

She could've visited him without the bars, but the bars were a divider between them: one that would never be gone. Seeing him apart from them would only be an illusion, and now she just wanted the truth.

In the gaps between the bars, she reached out to touch him. His hand, already waiting, touched hers, and she winced. Indescribable, the feeling—such relief and pain. The touch she knew, ensnared with the truth she dreaded.

The one she had tried to ignore. Had feebly hoped to change.

There was no changing. Not with him, not with this man.

This man, this man that would never see the light of real day. This man that had saved her—

He pulled her forward into a loose embrace, slowly stroking her back as if to prolong their moment before the inevitable.

—from her darkest hours of detachment—

She turned away from his face, gasping, but holding onto the hands around her shoulders.

—and uplifted her hopes in the only honest words she had known to that point—

Wincing, she sank to her feet, and he released her as she did.

—as the unlikely hero. He alone had kept her human.

Spreading her arms across the bars, as if to suspend them from reality for just a moment, she sobbed.

There really was…not a thing, not a damned thing she could do for him.

An hour flew by.

Another disappeared.

And a few more were stolen, but she could still not bring herself to accept it.

He would stay here forever while she'd be there, kissed by the light of day, in a place he could never go. Sitting here, no amount of time could take away her anguish.

She couldn't stay here, in this simple disillusion—

Not when there was someone she could help. Someone who needed her as much as she needed him.

Someone for her to love. Someone for her to live with. Someone that could move forward…with her.

And not here, trapped in the sins of the past, where there exists no future. She…did not belong here.

Not even with him…

Why any of them were here, the three of them, was the past—it was all in the past. For one of them, there was nothing to be done…but they still had a chance to move forward.

That's why she kissed him—sweet, sad good-bye. It was an end.

That's why she pulled away after one last glimpse.  
That's why he released her…letting that last finger linger for just a second.

That's why it was the last time any of them would ever each other.

This was good-bye. A good-bye to all things to be left in the past.

Sasuke looked at that man, a man he didn't know anymore. That man, condemned, was one he no longer knew, and no longer hated. So, he walked away, with only memories of the esteem with which he had once regarded his aniki. He would remember his hero, forget the murderer, and discount the stranger in that cell.

She would remember her savior…and focus forward on the one she could reach.

The one she could hold, free of the bars.

And she did.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Hand in hand they came, and hand in hand they left. They never came again, just as he knew they wouldn't. It was useless, and would only serve as a reminder of the utter futility.

Did aniki wish they did?

He wouldn't say—not even to himself.

But in that moment, he had felt it—she was gone forever.

Just like he was here forever, she was gone.

And he was sure that if he were capable of feeling, he would have, at that moment, felt a little of what it was like to be sad.

If he only could have felt.

,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.,.-;-'-;-.,.

Walking down the street hand in hand, they looked far more ordinary than they felt.

A girl who had denounced the concept of 'past.'

A boy who had denounced his enslavement to anger.

Now, simply a girl. And simply a boy. A boy and girl, together. Walking ahead, hand in hand. That was the circumstance of their newly simple situation.

And it sure as hell felt good being simple at long last.

—_fin _

**Epilogue – Exoskin**

It was a nice day out, so Mrs. Haruno thought it was as good a day as any to arrange a little gathering amongst the young folk. She had always favored that Uchiha boy, so she couldn't truly complain as long as one of her daughters had managed to nab him. Said daughter (along with many others) had been picked up by the official Haruno limo, which headed straight for a place familiar to some, and new to many.

Despite the weather, there didn't seem to be anyone around. All the better, they figured, as they had the entire beach to themselves.

Beneath an obnoxiously rhinestoned pink Haruno© canopy, they laid out various blankets and recliners in fast efforts of maintaining their easygoing pace.

Sakura sat beneath a white umbrella, a little off to the side, in an uncharacteristically modest navy blue one-piece that most certainly did not come from _her _closet (she had felt far too exposed in her usual suit). Curious that it fit so precisely, considering its owner was a good 5 inches shorter. Her hair, French-braided by a helping hand (she could never reach the back herself), sported a simple white orchid, courtesy of Yamanaka flowers. Today, it seemed, all of her pieces were borrowed.

Naruto was under the canopy, close enough to hear her, but far enough so that he could roam freely. Occasionally, he'd glance back, just to make sure she was safe and _dry_ on her reclining chair. Not that she needed him to, but sometimes it's just nice to know there's someone looking at all.

In someway, Naruto had managed to keep in touch with the others at the orphanage, but Hinata chalked that up to his insatiable energy. Currently, he was talking to a brown-haired guy with red facial tattoos that Hinata couldn't recall at all. Still, they had reacquainted each other, which was just as well.

Ino sat behind Sakura, because Sakura would never let her live it down that she was watching her too. Sitting beside Temari, who was wedged between her and Shikamaru, Ino was still loud. Anyone could tell, though, that she was content and relaxed. Ino and Shikamaru cared for each other, and would always remain close by—but only close enough to be able to fit Temari between them, of course.

Even Gaara was there, who was currently being fanned by a grim-faced Kankuro. His skin was ever-so-delicate. Gaara flagrantly stared at Hinata, who was not creeped out enough to prevent herself from smiling at him. Kankuro might have been admiring Tenten, but one can't be too sure; especially with her European boyfriend draped onto her lap like a blood-thirsty hound.

The long-haired, pale-eyed head of Branch Corporation (relocated to England after its first collapse and renaming) was visiting his beloved for the summer. Each time Tenten looked to her beau, then to Hinata, she recalled her initial reaction to Hinata—that the girl looked eerily familiar. In fact, now that she thought about it—

Said boyfriend, upon meeting this Hinata, could not help but recall all of those newspaper clippings he had gathered over the years. She had definitely been in one of them—was it the one overviewing the history of his company's management? Whatever the case, he was sure that a thorough review of his company's history would yield an answer.

As for Hinata, she was currently too caught-up to think of anyone…else.

Seeing as Hinata was suddenly short of a bathing suit, she had no choice but to settle for a certain sister's less-than-humble two-piece. Sasuke had _modestly proposed _that she change into something less suggestive. When she had refused, just to humor him, he had gracelessly seized her, tossing the both of them into the water.

There they were—strange that amidst this sea of people, they could perfectly feel each other. As soon as Hinata resurfaced, she was tugged back under.

The water was clean enough to open her eyes under, and the sight of him before her let her withstand the panic that being in water brought upon her. Like a mirror image, his hand lifted to life the moment hers reached for his. Together, they met, and together they pulled.

She sailed into his arms despite the weight of the sea, where they probed each other's face with their lips until they met in a gravitational pull. He kissed her fiercely, pumping oxygen into her, and she didn't refuse.

It's what he did. He gave her physical things, things to give for all that he couldn't:

All the invisible things she had given him.

He had accepted—they wouldn't be here otherwise. So she did as well, and in this way they were equal.

The moment they parted, a current ripped her weightless body from him and she sailed a distance away. Panic overcame her, and she squinted through the salt to find him. She could barely make out his form, muddled by the fog of distance when even he began to drift further away.

_I'm scared. Sasuke, where are you? Are you near?_

…

She repeated these in her head, and of course she went unanswered. But suddenly, she was unafraid. She did not fear any longer, for in the innermost realm of her, she could feel it. Like the light thrumming of his fingers on her back, she felt it – those soft, eight thumps.

_1_

_2_

_3_

_4_

_5_

_6_

_7_

_8_

Over and over again, so she'd never forget.

_1_

_2_

_3_

_4_

_5_

_6_

_7_

_8_

The answer to any and every question she'd ever have, there it was.

_I_

_L_

_o_

_v_

_e_

_Y_

_o_

_u_

She remembered. So she knew she would find him, or he would find her. Because.

He loved her.

There were no words.

But she knew all the same.


End file.
